


Savior

by SimonsSavior



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Dwight's an asshole, F/M, Fluff and Smut, No really he fucking swears a lot, Protective Negan (Walking Dead), Reader-Insert, negan swears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-10-22 05:30:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 31,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10690731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SimonsSavior/pseuds/SimonsSavior
Summary: “I don’t bite, doll. Have I given you reason tonottrust me?”When Dwight threatens to kill you, Negan steps in and offers you the opportunity to return to the sanctuary with him. But there's something aboutNegan.Something different about the way he treats you and you aren't the only one to notice this.





	1. He fucking deserved it

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings** for all the usual stuff: violence, a little gore, swearing, smut etc as well as implied  & attempted rape.

“Get on your knees.” The words don’t sink in. “Are you deaf?” You don’t move; _Hell_ , you’re barely breathing at this point. “ _Get_ on your _fucking_ ,” An unexpected pain shoots through the back of your legs as he kicks at you from behind, “ _knees_.” You lurch forward, throwing your hands out as your legs buckle and you hit the road. Gravel scrapes against your palms, grazing your already bloodied skin. You swallow hard, lifting your hands up from the floor you bring yourself up to a kneeling position.

There’s a knife strapped to your thigh and there’s only one guy. You can take him. You killed one of the bastards already and you can fucking take him. Your eyes flicker to the knife and you flex your fingers briefly. But now you hear the familiar cocking of your _own_ gun. _Shit_.

“Don’t get any ideas or I’ll put a bullet in your goddamn brain right now.” Cold metal presses against the nape of your neck and you drop your gaze to the floor, a frustrated sigh escaping your lips. “And I _don’t_ wanna kill you.” You hold your breath as the barrel of the gun drags over your neck and across your cheek. The man moves around you, you stare at his feet as he comes to a stop in front of you and kneels. The gun now presses under your chin and he forces you to look at him. “No,” he smiles and you can’t help noticing the ugly scarring spanning the left side of his face. His eyes are sunken and his greasy, blond hair falls lankly over his face. “I want _Negan_ to do it. I want _Negan_ to see what you did to one of _his_ men.”

Your mind flashes back to the events that have led to this moment. Yeah, you killed a man. You stabbed him right in the gut and more than once. And he’d deserved it. You shake your head and attempt to focus on the present. “And who the _fuck_ is Negan?” You spit at the man. You glare defiantly, hoping your eyes are conveying fearlessness rather than dread. He glares back and opens his mouth to respond but is interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps.

“Holy fucking _fuck_ , what in the _fuck_ happened fucking here?” The footsteps come to a stop beside you but you don’t move your gaze away from the man opposite. There is a long silence before he breaks eye contact and looks up. “Dwighty-boy, the _fuck_ is going on? Why do I see one of my fucking Saviors back there with his _goddamn_ _guts_ hanging out all over the place?” His voice was gruff and demanding and he spoke with ill-tempered mirth. You glance sideways from your position on the floor as the scarred man referred to as Dwight drags himself up to his feet.

“ _This_ _little_ _bitch_.” He wavers the gun accusingly in your direction. You take a deep breath and clench your jaw.

“Is that fucking right?” The man sounds a little taken aback by Dwight’s statement.

“Yes, Negan.” Dwight replies. You glance up and scowl at him as he nods and a distasteful grin creeps its way over his lips. He takes a few steps back, allowing Negan to loom threateningly above you. Your eyes travel over his broad frame. He’s tall; easily over six feet. He’s wearing dark jeans and dusty combat boots, accompanied by a worn, black leather jacket and before your eyes are able to focus on his face you find yourself gazing instead at the fucking _baseball bat_ swung lazily over his shoulder. The damn thing was wrapped in nothing less than _barbed-fucking-wire._

He drops down abruptly in front of you, forcing your gaze away from the baseball bat. Now you find yourself studying his face; dark, slicked-back hair and graying stubble adorning a strong jawline. The lines around his deep, brown eyes suggest he is late-forties, at least. He’s staring you down as you take in his appearance. The corner of his mouth is upturned in a smirk as he watches you watch him. Before you realize it, his lips are parting to reveal perfect, straight, white teeth and now the goddamn psycho is full-on grinning at you.

“ _You?_ ” His eyebrows are raised in disbelief and he continues to grin dangerously at you. His head drops a little and he breaks eye contact to glance behind you and down the road at where the freshly disemboweled corpse lay. “Wow.” His eyes lock with yours again.

“He fucking deserved it.”

The smile drops from his face and he takes a deep breath. Without warning he swings the baseball bat down from his shoulder, causing you to jolt involuntarily. “Dwight. Hold Lucille for one fucking minute, would you?” A silent relief passes momentarily over you as Dwight takes the bat from Negan and you’d swear you heard Dwight sigh irritably as he took it. Negan rises to his feet and runs a gloved hand over his chin.

“Okay, the fuck did he do?” Negan stares at you, awaiting an answer.

“Who cares? She deserves to die she-” Dwight speaks out before you have a chance to answer but is swiftly cut off by Negan.

“If I want your fucking opinion, D, I’ll fucking _ask_ for it.” He smiles, almost gentlemanly at you, and gestures for you to answer him.

“He… He wanted what I had. My weapons… Food. I barely have anything. I told him I was alone and I didn’t have anything but the dumb bastard wouldn’t listen. I gave him my gun and…” You run a hand through your hair and swallow hard. “He… He said he was gonna… He, tried to-” You glance up at Negan, then at Dwight and back again.

“Did he lay his fucking hands on you?” Negan glances sideways at Dwight and his expression grows serious. “You hearing this, D? _Are you fucking hearing this?_ ” He turns back to you. “Did he fucking try and fucking _rape_ you?”

“I told you he deserved what he got.”

“Well, shit. You _know_ about this, Dwight?” You glance up at Dwight. His eyes are wide and he shakes his head almost violently.

“No, I swear. I was scouting a nearby building and I come out and find him like… _That_.” He gestures back at the corpse. Negan huffs contentedly and turns back to you.

“So.” You attempt to maintain calm in your voice as you speak. “That what you’re gonna do to me? Or are you just gonna kill me?”

“The _fuck?_ _Kill you?_ Sounds like you just did me a _goddamn, mother-fucking favor_ , sweetheart. I do _not_ stand for that shit. _No fucking way_.” He leans back a little as he speaks, grin once again spread across his face. “I’m only sorry I didn’t kill that mother-fucker my- _goddamn_ -self.” You narrow your eyes at him, unsure whether to believe his words or not. After all, there are fuck-all good people left in this world, right? Why should he be any different?

Negan holds out his gloved hand toward you. You hesitate. The smile still lingers and his tongue slips out, tracing his bottom lip as he waits for you to take his hand. “I don’t bite, doll. Have I given you reason to _not_ trust me?” Considering for a moment, you grab his hand and he hauls you to your feet. You glance at Dwight. He’s looking a little nervous and avoids your eyes, instead staring at the ground. “D. You owe this lady a fucking _apology_.”

Dwight nods quickly in response, clearly intimidated by the larger man. “Sorry.” He mutters quietly.

“Fucking _really, D_? Say it like you goddamn mean it you put a fucking _gun_ against this woman’s head, threatened to _kill_ her and all after that fucking _prick_ tried to fucking _fuck_ her against her will. Are you fucking _kidding me?_ ”

“No, I’m sorry, Negan.” He pulls his gaze up to meet you and attempts to smile with what you can only assume is sincerity. “Sorry. I’m really, honestly… I had no idea.”

“Better.” Negan grins and holds a hand out to retrieve his baseball bat from Dwight, who promptly returns it. “What’s your name?” You figure you have nothing to lose so you tell him. “You’re out here alone?” He questions.

“Yeah. I mean, there were others. But it’s been about a month now. Yeah. I’m alone.” You blink, knowing that dwelling on what had happened to the rest of your group would only cause you to cry and fuck that; not in front of this guy.

Negan presses his lips together with a _tsk_. “You got a place to stay?”

“Does it look like it?” You retort, gesturing at your filthy and bloodied clothes.

“Then it’s your lucky fucking day, sweetheart.” He smiles at you again and for the first time in a long time, you feel a smile creeping over your own lips. And you want to slap yourself in the goddamn face for it. What are you thinking? How can you trust him? How do you know he’s not gonna fucking kill you, or worse? “Dwight, give the fucking gun back.” He orders.

You gauge the uncertainty on Dwight’s face as he tentatively returns your gun. You grasp it tightly.

“See?” Negan’s tongue traces over his bottom lip once again and he pauses, glancing at the gun in your hands. And as though he can read your exact thoughts he assures, “You can fucking trust me, doll. Not gonna hurt you.” You find your eyes locked on his as you consider his sincerity but _God_ _damn_ you find yourself falling helplessly into those incredibly… perfect… beautiful eyes… _Shit_.

He’s staring back with a grin on his face even wider than before, as though it were possible.

“Well this is getting fucking _intense_.” He swings his head round lazily in Dwight’s direction, his eyes continuously burning into yours. “Start the fucking truck up, Dwighty-boy.” Has Dwight gone? You’re not sure. Hell, a fucking _corpse_ could be chewing on your arm right now and you probably wouldn’t even notice. _God_ _damn_. Why can’t you stop staring at him?

But then his eyes snap away from you and he stares over your shoulder, although the smile still lingers on his face his expression has changed entirely. “Mm,” he mumbles, “give me one fucking minute, doll.” He brushes past you with baseball bat raised at his side. You turn and watch as he walks away. He turns back momentarily and lets out a deep-throated laugh. “Fucking _watch_ _this_.” He demands.

Looking ahead of him you notice the man you’d gutted is looking a little less dead and a little more dead-alive. It ambles toward Negan, guts spilling all over the tarmac, arms outstretched and teeth gnashing hungrily at him. “You’re a _goddamn_ fucking _mess_! Look. At. _You_.” Negan slows his pace and stands his ground, baseball bat raised in anticipation and _waiting_ for the walking corpse to reach him.

And then with one, heavy swing of the bat the corpse’s head is swiped clean off its body. The decapitated body drops to the floor but its teeth are still gnashing as Negan brings the bat down on top of it. “Fuck you, you piece of _shit_.” He declares as its skull is crushed under the weight of the bat and bloodied brains seep out across the ground. Negan spins on his heel and faces you again. He throws his arms out to the side and the bat dangles loosely in his right hand, blood dripping down its barbs and pooling on the floor. “I feel fucking better.” He exclaims contentedly, and you can’t help but smirk at the expression on his face.


	2. Pretty fucking special

It hadn’t taken much convincing for Negan to get you in the truck and driving away with him and Dwight. In fact, you had quite willingly agreed to go with them (you had nowhere fucking else to go, right?) to the place Negan referred to as “The Sanctuary”. You weren’t sure how long the journey had taken, since you’d slept for the best part of it. _You shouldn’t have slept_. Honestly, if you had any common sense you should have been terrified of the idea of getting into a truck and driving to an unknown location with a baseball-bat-wielding maniac and a man with half his face burned off; who, for that matter, had not long since threatened to shoot you in the head.

_But fuck_. Something about Negan had you hooked and he made you feel – and fuck you hated that you allowed yourself to feel this way but – safe. So safe, in fact, that as the truck begins to slow and you force open your eyes you realize you’ve been _sleeping against his shoulder the whole damn journey_.

“Rise and fucking shine, sweetheart.” You pull yourself up straight and gaze bleary-eyed at Negan for a moment.

“Uh… Sorry…” You mutter, a little embarrassed you’d fallen asleep on a man you’ve known for approximately… Well you can’t be sure how long you’d slept for, but still.

“Hey, did I complain?” He raises an eyebrow and you turn away, feeling slightly foolish.

You glance out of the window and begin to take in your surroundings. It’s dark, but the light from the truck’s headlamps create enough of a glow you can see the surrounding area. The truck comes to a steady stop outside of a tall fence of which walking corpses had been chained to. You gaze, awestruck by the corpses guarding the place before taking in the impressively sized factory building behind the fence; it’s grey and dull; thick pipes run along the outside and up its walls; the many window panes look thick with years-worth of grime from what you can tell and barely any light is emitting from them. But it certainly looks like a safer place than _out_ _there_.

“This is it? The Sanctuary?” You question, staring out at the dreary building before you.

“Home, sweet, home.” Negan sighs with a grin. He pulls at the door of the truck, swings it wide open and steps down into the cool night air. A man on the other side of the fence begins to pull open a gate. Negan turns back and holds a hand out to you. You don’t need his assistance to exit the truck but _damn_ , you somehow can’t refuse his hand and he grins like he knows this as you hold onto him and drop down onto the dusty tarmac.

You notice the man at the gate eyes you curiously as you approach, no doubt he’s wondering what happened to the other man who was with them when they’d left the Sanctuary, and why Negan was returning with you, instead. But as you and Negan further approach him, he – alongside two other men patrolling the fence nearby – drops abruptly to his knees and bows his head, lowering his eyes to the ground. You catch Negan glancing sideways at you. A soft, breathy laugh escapes him and he whispers, “Neat, huh?” You aren't sure how to respond.

Negan stops suddenly in his tracks and turns to you, sighing regretfully, “Look, I got _business_ to attend to, but Dwighty here, is gonna set you up with a nice room. Some food; clean clothes.” He glances at Dwight and then back at you, “I’ll check up on you in the morning, doll.” And although it was dark you could swear he winked at you before turning and striding away, baseball bat swung over his shoulder and whistling softly to himself.

You turn to Dwight, suddenly feeling a lot more vulnerable without Negan by your side. “It’s okay. We’re good.” He attempts to reassure you.

“Are we?”

“I… I’m sorry, about earlier. I mean, I didn’t know.” He rubs a hand over the back of his neck and gestures with his other hand toward steps leading up to the door of the building.

“You didn’t ask.”

“I saw you standing over the man’s dead body.” He protests, indicating again for you to move toward the door. You sigh and begrudgingly ascend the steps, glancing back at Negan as he turns the corner out of sight. Dwight pushes open the door and you step inside.

The hallway stretching before you is grey and dimly lit, lined with closed, grey doors. Heavy pipework runs the course of the ceiling and along walls. You hear the main door close behind you and Dwight steps forward, “Follow me…” He mutters and you do as instructed.

“You know, you’re lucky.” Dwight asserts as you round a corner. You don’t respond. He glances over his shoulder and catches your eye momentarily. “Negan must think you’re pretty fucking special.”

He stops outside of a door and you stop behind him. He turns to face you and he must have noticed the confused frown that has crept over your face because he laughs – almost pitifully – as you stare at him.

“You think everyone is awarded this kinda treatment; a room to yourself and fresh clothing? Yup, Negan’s taken a real fucking shine to you.” He pushes open the door beside you. “Watch yourself. He’s dangerous.”

“ _Negan_ wasn’t the one threatening to _blow my brains out_ earlier. If I remember rightly that was _you, D._ ” Dwight sighs and shakes his head irritably.

“I’m jus’ sayin’.” He mumbles defensively.

You step inside the room and Dwight flicks a light switch by the door. _Wow._ Electricity is not something you’re used to these days. You glance around and can barely contain your excitement as you take in the rest of the room; it’s about the most impressive place you’ve been since this whole damn apocalypse started. A bed; shelves lined with books; a refrigerator – a-fucking-refrigerator – your eyes drift back to the bed.

“Yeah…” Dwight mutters. “Pretty, fucking, _special_.” Attempting to keep a calm composure you turn back to Dwight.

“So… Negan’s in charge around here, then?” Dwight doesn’t reply to the question, instead he simply nods and avoids eye contact. “Okay, well… Did I hear a mention of food? I’m starving.” Dwight takes a deep breath and moves to leave the room.

“Sure. I’ll get you something. Clothes, too.” He gestures at your less than impressive outfit. “I’ll be right back.” He shuts the door behind him and as it clicks shut you find yourself slinking down against it; a contented smile passes briefly over your lips. Maybe this is it. Maybe you’re safe now.

 

* * *

 

 

“ _Knock_ , _knock_.” The words startle you and your gut reaction is to reach for your weapon. “Whoa, darlin’.” You blink your eyes open and glance toward the doorway. A tall figure leans casually against its frame, complete with barbed baseball bat dangling from one arm. You lower the knife. “ _Damn_. I tried knocking but you were fucking _dead_ to the world, doll. Hope you don’t mind me letting myself in.” A smirk creeps over Negan’s lips as he stares at you, and you wonder how long he’s been standing there.

“I… I guess I haven’t slept so well in… In a long time.” You admit, rubbing your hands over your eyes and pulling back the bed-sheets. You squint up at the high windows lining one side of the room and realize it's now morning.

“I’m not fucking surprised.” He enters the room and closes the door behind him. You should feel intimidated – but you don’t. He paces the room and glances around as though taking everything in and then drops down onto the bed beside you. “How fucking long were you surviving out there, on the road?” He twirls the baseball bat around in his hands as he speaks.

“Since the beginning, on and off.”

“Fuck.” You sit in silence, watching his hands as he turns the bat over and over between them.

“That thing go everywhere with you?” Negan pauses for a moment, as though unsure of what you’re referring to, and then lifts the baseball bat closer to his face.

“ _Lucille?_ Fuck yes she does.” What kind of person _names_ a baseball bat? He turns to face you and you find yourself staring hard into those deep brown eyes once again.

After what seems like an eternity of you staring at him and him grinning suggestively at you, you manage to break eye contact and stare down at the floor. You shift awkwardly.

“Why did… Why did you give me a room?” Negan huffs out a soft laugh and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He doesn’t reply right away. “It’s just, Dwight said-”

“Dwight needs to watch his _goddam_ _mother_ - _fucking_ _mouth_.” You tense as the atmosphere changes in the room. Negan must have sensed your discomfort as he sighs and glances over his shoulder at you. “I felt fucking sorry for you, doll.”

“That’s it?” You swallow hard and glance back up to meet his gaze.

“No. That’s not fucking _it_.” He pulls himself up straight and moves his face closer to yours. “You’ve been out there, all this _goddam_ time, surviving on your own? _Shit_ you are one _Hell_ of a survivor.” His tongue runs between his teeth as he looks at you. “As it happens I could fucking use someone like you. Seeing as I’m one fucking Savior down right now.” He raises his eyebrows accusingly at you and his tongue slips back out over his bottom lip and _fuck_ you wish he wouldn’t look at you like this.

“I don’t know.” Truthfully you don’t want to have to go back out there; to fight off the dead – _or_ the living, for that matter.

“Look, doll, what you gotta understand is _every, fucking, person here,_ has a fucking job to do. You work. You earn points. You fucking _survive_. You _follow the rules_. You fuck shit up and I _shit_ _you not_ , you’ll end up with a goddamn face like poor Dwighty-boy and I _know_ you wouldn’t want that. Shit, _I_ wouldn't want that.” He’s still smiling but you turn away as his words sink in. Dwight had relayed much of this information to you last night but you begin to wonder if you _have_ made the right choice to be here because fuck, Negan certainly seems like a man not to fuck with.

“Okay.” You mumble, eyes still fixated on the floor.

Negan gently places a hand under your chin and guides your face up toward his so you can feel his hot breath against your skin – and it sends goddamn shivers down your spine. He’s close enough you can smell the leather on him and _shit_ does he smell good. “Congratu- _fucking_ -lations, doll. Right answer.” He’s so close you can no longer focus on his eyes and instead you find yourself staring at his lips; the corners still upturned in a smirk as he holds your face close to his. You shouldn’t be thinking what you _are_ thinking but God _damn_ is this man attractive.

But without warning, Negan releases you and pulls away. He stands, leaving you not entirely sure how to feel, and makes his way to the door. His back is still turned to you but you’d no doubt in your mind he still wore that goddamn perfect smile as he asked “Well, doll, you coming?”


	3. Not fucking done

As you stroll around different parts of the compound with Negan you begin to notice people are dropping to their knees as he approaches. People are bowing to him like he’s some _goddamn_ _king_ and it’s weird as shit. You try to pretend not to notice but Negan chuckles softly to himself as he catches you glancing at them. “Yeah, I know, fucking weird as shit, ain’t it?”

“Well. Yeah.” You frown and he lets out another chuckle before pushing open a set of double doors and striding onto a high platform above a crowded room; Lucille swung up on his shoulder and his softened expression replaced suddenly with one of stone-cold authority. A hushed silence falls over the room as every person drops to their knees and bows their heads.

“ _Who are you?_ ” He demands of them, and a chorus of “Negan” is echoed throughout the room. “Yes, you, fucking, _are_.” He barks with a determination. You’re at a loss for words as Negan turns his back on them and leans against the metal bars surrounding the platform, glancing at you with an egotistical smirk on his face. “Impressed?” He whispers at you as you glance between him and the people below. To say no would be a lie but you aren’t giving him the satisfaction of saying yes, although you were pretty goddamn sure the expression on your face gave it away. “Of course you fucking are.” And with that he pulls himself upright and strolls out of the door.

You make it as far as the courtyard when you see a young, heavyset man jogging toward you. He’s sweating and struggling for breath by the time he reaches you both. Negan arches back as he waits for the man to speak.

“Negan,” he pants.

“Fat Joseph.” Negan replies bluntly.

“I’ve been… Looking for you. Dwight and Simon… They wanted to speak to you, Negan, sir.” Joseph straightens up as he catches his breath, squinting in the glaring sunlight as he glances nervously at Negan.

“That so? Can it fucking wait? I’m a little fucking busy.” He nods in your direction and winks at Joseph. You try and prevent a grin from forming on your lips but it’s all too obvious and even Joseph appears to notice. He smiles briefly at you and then looks back up at Negan.

“Sorry, sir. They said it was urgent.” Joseph wears an anxious look as he awaits Negan’s response.

Negan’s expression grows once again serious. He takes a deep breath and sighs as he takes a step toward Joseph. He wraps an arm around him and slaps him – a little too enthusiastically, you think – on the shoulder. “Joey. Think you could keep this lovely young lady company for me until I get back?” Negan gestures toward you with the hand holding Lucille and Joseph’s eyes dart toward you and then back up at Negan.

“Uh, yeah. Yes, sir.” He nods anxiously.

Negan leans closer to Joseph and whispers in an almost threatening tone, “Good.” before standing straight again and locking his eyes with yours for the briefest of moments. He nods, then turns and walks away in the direction Joseph had approached from, leaving the two of you glancing awkwardly at one another.

“So um…” Joseph is the one to break the silence. “You’re new here.”

“Yeah.” You shrug.

“Dwight was telling me about you.” Joseph is smiling as he speaks to you, seemingly calmer now that Negan is out of sight.

“I bet he was.”

“Yeah, he said you weren’t fond of him.” He kicks at dust on the ground.

“He tried to shoot me.” You frown at Joseph, who shrugs in response. “So… What was that about?” You nod in the direction Negan had left in.

“Savior business.” Joseph replies bluntly. You bite your tongue as you consider how to respond.

“I am a Savior, now.” Joseph looks at you with uncertainty.

“Look I don’t know… Something to do with Sherry, I think.” He wipes his hand across his forehead as he speaks.

“Sherry?”

“Yeah. You know, his wife.”

“ _Wife_?”

“Yeah, one of them. He didn’t introduce you?” Joseph stares intently at you and you stare back. _One of them? The fuck is he talking about?_

 

* * *

 

 

 _Fat_ _Joseph_ told you everything you needed to know about Negan’s wives. Although he _did_ look more than a little regretful after he’d told you. But now you’re beginning to understand why Dwight had been so skeptical of how quickly you’d fallen in with him and Negan the previous day and why he’d warned you against him. You feel stupid as you lay back against the pillows of your bed; mostly you feel stupid because you still can’t stop thinking about him even _after_ what Joseph had told you.

_Knock, knock._

_Shit_. If this is him –

“Open up, doll. Joey tells me you fucking took off.” He calls through the door. You grit your teeth and pull it open. Sure enough, Negan with his irritatingly attractive grin is leaning up against the other side. “What the fuck d’you take off for?”

“Were you going to tell me? Or were you leaving them _off_ the tour?” You demand.

“What in the shit are you talking about?” The smile drops from his face.

“Your _fucking_ _wives!_ However many the _fuck_ there are.” Negan steps into the room forcing you to take a step backwards, and slams the door fiercely.

“Firstly, do _not_ fucking speak to me like that. _Ever_. I will _not_ stand for that shit _d’you fucking understand that?”_ He swings Lucille directly in front of your face and stares threateningly at you. You try not to shake as you clench your fists and stare him down. “Secondly, I’ve known you for _one goddamn fucking_ _day_ so calm, the _fuck_ , down.” His face softens a little as he stares at you. He takes a deep breath and runs a hand over his chin, dropping Lucille back at his side. “This is a big fucking deal to you, isn’t it? Jesus-mother-fucking-Christ, doll.”

“No.” You lie. “It’s just…” You relax your fists and drop your gaze to the floor. Fuck it; you don’t know why you feel this way. “Do you love them? I mean, all of them?” You’re not sure why you’re asking this question. You shouldn’t care. No, you don’t care.

“I fuck them.” You glance up at Negan. “You want the fucking truth, doll, I fuck them. I provide safety, food, I go out and risk _my_ fucking life to bring back supplies. I fucking care for them and in return, they agreed, to marry me.” You stare skeptically at him. “ _Willingly_.” He adds with raised eyebrows. “It’s a new fucking world and all these people are living under _my_ fucking rules and I figure, why the fuck _not_ screw a bunch of different women?” You wonder what the fuck kind of explanation this is.

You stare at him. He stares back, almost unblinking but after a minute has passed the corners of his mouth curl up into yet another smile and he huffs, dropping his gaze to the floor before glancing back up at you. “Goddammit.” He mutters. “You are _really, fucking, pretty_.” You open your mouth to respond but you don’t know how. He is such a fucking charmer it makes you want to slap him in his stupidly handsome face. “Honestly if I didn’t need you out there, I would totally ask you to be my wife.” How. Fucking. Dare. He.

You take a step toward Negan, your eyes narrow as you continue to stare bitterly at him. “Fuck you.” That's a poor choice of words.

“That an offer, doll?” There’s a heat building in the pit of your stomach as he speaks and raises an eyebrow at you, running his tongue between his lips. You begin to wonder how he can he be so fucking aggravating and yet devastatingly charming all at once. And no; it wasn’t an offer. But that didn’t mean the thought hadn’t crossed your mind more than once.

He moves closer so your boots are toe to toe. “Because I would _not_ pass that offer up.” The air between you is thick with tension. He stares down at you; his gaze alternating between your eyes and your lips, almost _daring_ you to make a move on him. He leans a little closer, his voice an enticing whisper. “You have _no_ _idea_ , how much I want to fucking kiss you right now…” He’s so close you’re practically touching. “Or maybe, _maybe_ you do have an idea. Maybe you feel the _same, fucking, way_.” Well, fuck.

And it’s as though your brain has disregarded all rational thought and is instead screaming at you to just fucking kiss him. Before you can stop yourself you reach up and pull your hands around the back of his neck and your lips collide hard with his; almost desperately. Negan wastes no time in returning your advances and you hear Lucille clattering to the floor beside you as he places strong hands around your waist. It’s a matter of seconds before that goddamn tongue of his is seeking out your own and he growls hungrily against you.

He pulls his hips against yours and you can feel his erection already pressing hard through his jeans and Jesus _fuck_ do you wish there weren’t two goddamn layers of denim between you right now. Moving your hands from the back of his neck you tug at the zip of his jacket and he lets go of your hips in order to shrug it from his shoulders; his lips not releasing yours for a second as his tongue explores your mouth fiercely.

You replace a hand around the back of his neck; your fingers dragging through waves of dark hair. You pull at the hem of his dulled-white t-shirt and slide your other hand against toned stomach. His hands have found their way to your ass and he squeezes gently, enough to make you whimper softly into his kisses and you’d swear the bastard is ginning as he kisses you.

Without warning his hands grip your thighs and he pulls you – almost effortlessly – off of the floor and around his hips. Your hand grips hard against his neck as he turns and pins you firmly against the wall; the sensation causes you to moan against him and sends sparks through your body.

Your legs are wrapped around him and he presses firmly against you; tearing his mouth reluctantly away from yours he grips his t-shirt and drags it over his head, discarding it carelessly to the floor alongside Lucille and his jacket. His breathing is heavy as his hands travel under your own shirt and he pulls it up and over your head.

And then his mouth is pressed back against you and you pull your arms up around his shoulders. He’s supporting you with one hand as his other rests against your stomach; and his hand is rough but he trails gently over your skin towards your breasts causing a shiver to travel up your spine. He moves his mouth to place hot kisses along your jawline, his stubble brushing against you and no doubt leaving marks. Your head falls back against the wall as he moves to you neck; his teeth graze gently on your skin and then he bites down and _god-fucking-damn,_ it feels good.

“Negan…” His name passes your lips and it only causes him to bite harder. His fingers tease over your nipple as he snakes his hand down towards the button of your pants and within seconds he’s got them undone. You gasp as he dips his fingers slowly between your thighs.

“Fuck, doll.” His voice is a low growl against your ear. “You’re this fucking wet for me?” He smirks as he pulls his face in front of you and his eyes level with yours. _Arrogant prick_.

And he may well be an arrogant prick but that sure as fuck doesn’t stop you shoving your tongue back into his mouth as he forces his lips back against you. You can already feel the release building up inside of you as his fingers work skilfully over your clit; and you shouldn’t be surprised he’s this good; you’re sure he’s had enough goddamn practice but fuck you do _not_ want to think about that right now.

He pulls away from your mouth once again and his eyes are burning hard into yours. His lips twitch gently and he bites down on his bottom lip as his finger teases at your entrance; and it’s like he wants to see your goddamn reaction as he pushes inside of you. Your breathing is heavy and another moan escapes you; you close your eyes but Negan won’t allow it.

“Fuck no. Fucking _look at me_.” He growls, pushing deeper inside of you. You do as he demands, opening your eyes again to meet his intense stare. He moves rhythmically, causing your breathing to quicken and you can feel your orgasm already dangerously close; the room is spinning and all you can focus on is his deep brown eyes locked onto yours; burning with lustful determination.

“Oh fuck, Negan.” You can’t help calling out his name as one finger becomes two and he moves faster.

 _Thud. Thud. Thud_.

Negan stops suddenly. You both glance at the door but before either of you has a chance to say anything it swings open.

“ _Are you goddamn mother-fucking kidding me?_ ” Negan barks furiously. “Fat fucking Joey you _stupid fucking fuck_ what the _fuck do you want?_ ” Well this is awkward.

“Shit, shit, I didn’t-” Joseph turns around in an attempt to avert his gaze. “Sorry, I didn’t think-”

“Hey Joey, get the _fuck_ out.” Negan orders and all you can do is bury your face against his shoulder in embarrassment.

“Yes, Negan, Sir.” There’s a shuffling of footsteps before you hear Joey speak again, “It’s just, I thought I should-” You can almost _feel_ the anger radiating from Negan “I’ll go.” The door clicks shut and you look up.

“ _Goddamn fucking prick_.” He mutters. “I mean can you _believe_ that guy?” You swallow hard and your breathing begins to slow as Negan pulls away from you and removes his hand from your pants. “Shit, doll… Fucking, ruined the mood.” _No shit_.

“You gonna see what he wanted?” You question, feeling as though you should probably say _something_ as you awkwardly replace your shirt. Negan pulls his own t-shirt back on and tucks it halfheartedly into his waistline.

“ _The fuck I am_.” He growls, retrieving Lucille from the floor and gripping her tightly. You feel sick in the pit of your stomach as you consider what Negan is likely to do to Joseph but before you have a chance to reply, he’s already out of the door and striding down the hallway; Lucille swinging dangerously at his side.

You fall back against the wall and shut your eyes as you consider what just happened – or more to the point what didn’t happen. You shake your head, almost laughing at yourself. You really don’t know what the fuck you were thinking letting things get that far with Negan. He’s married to a bunch of different women purely for fucking privileges and yet here he is, fucking you instead.

 

* * *

 

 

You didn’t see Negan the rest of that day. It wasn’t until the following morning – after a horrendously restless night in which you could think of nothing but Negan – he found you standing outside by the front gate, staring absentmindedly at the corpses chained to the other side of the fence.

You hear him whistling from behind you but you don’t turn around.

“Morning, beautiful.” You glance at him as he stands behind you. He waits patiently for you to answer him but instead you find yourself too engrossed in watching the corpses. “Generally when someone says good morning, it’s polite to say it the fuck back, doll.” You turn your head to face him.

“Sorry. Morning.” You mutter. He smiles sincerely. “What did Joey want yesterday?” Negan sighs and stares out at the corpses.

“Nothing that couldn’t fucking wait. Some, bullshit that Simon could have _easily_ fucking dealt with.” He arches back as he speaks and closes his eyes as though enjoying the warmth of the morning’s sun. Admittedly, the sun _did_ feel good at this time of day.

“So,” you glance at Negan, an air of nervousness in your voice as you wonder if Joseph was alright after Negan had gotten through with him.

“So, you’re gonna ask what happened to him?” It’s like he knows what you are thinking. “He’ll be fine. A few broken ribs, busted nose…” He grins as he speaks, twirling Lucille over his shoulder.

“It’s not like he could have known we were-” you pause. “He couldn’t have known he was interrupting anything.”

“Not-the-fuck-ing-point.” He drawls in a sing-song voice; and as much as you don’t agree Joseph getting the shit beat out of him was particularly fair, you had to admit a large part of you admires the way Negan runs things around here.

“What _was_ that yesterday?” You blurt out the question without thinking about it and stare at him.

“Uh,” He looks almost lost for words. _Almost_. “Let’s see, doll.” He moves to stand directly in front of you and leans forward so that his stubble brushes against your cheek. His voice is low and seductive as he whispers, “That was me, taking you, part-way to fucking heaven and I sure as _shit_ am not fucking done with you yet.” He pulls his face back into view and smiles like he _knows_ his words have made your legs weak and before you can respond, he tucks a finger into the top of jeans and pulls you toward him; his lips press softly against yours in a gentle kiss and _damn_ if he’s not doing this on purpose.

“But sweetheart,” His mouth hovers overs yours teasingly as he whispers at you. “We got a fucking job to do first.” At first his words aren’t registering, as your brain is seemingly incapable of focusing on anything other than that fucking mouth of his; but then the words sink in.

“What?” He pulls himself upright and gestures toward a truck parked across the compound.

“We’re going on a supply run and I want you to come with us. I’m leaving Simon to keep an eye on things here. You fucking up for it, doll?” The idea of being back on the road wasn’t something you were particularly fond of but if it meant you were with _Negan_ – but for the life of you, you couldn’t reason why – then you were _fucking up for it._


	4. Dead fuckers

Negan turns with a smirk and strides toward the trucks; you follow behind. You might have felt anxious about going back out there, but honestly there was something reassuring about knowing you’d be with a man like Negan – not to mention his Saviors, and Dwight may be a son-of-a-bitch but he’s a tough son-of-a-bitch from what you’ve seen – to keep you safe. Not that you need to be kept safe but _truthfully_ , with the way things were going, and with the loss of your group, you figured you wouldn't have survived much longer out there.

The heavy door to the Sanctuary swings open and a group of men and women – with an impressive arsenal – file out toward the trucks; you recognize one of them as being Dwight. They descend the steps and stand silently in front of Negan, awaiting his orders; most all of them are staring condescendingly at you. You shift your gaze awkwardly away from the glances and you wonder if Joseph has told any of them about what he’d seen.

“Dwight, Keno, Laura.” He points Lucille in their direction. “You’re with me.” Negan commands, swinging Lucille around in the direction of the trucks. “Simon you’re fucking in charge around here until I get back. Arat, Gary, I want you here too, make sure everyone’s following the _goddamn_ rules while I’m gone understood?” You finally put a face to the name Simon; you’ve heard him mentioned a number of times since arriving here. He nods firmly.

“How far out?” Dwight asks, finally taking his eyes off of you and addressing Negan directly.

“A day’s drive. If all goes to fucking plan.” Dwight nods and makes his way to one of the trucks, climbing inside and starting up the engine. A man you can only assume is Keno climbs up into the truck alongside Dwight, slinging two assault rifles off of his shoulder and into the back.

“ _She’s_ coming too?” A tattooed woman with wavy blonde hair pulled into a bun steps forward, smirking coldly in your direction. Before you can answer, Negan swings Lucille up to his shoulder and steps forward. He stands almost a foot taller than she does and it doesn’t take long for the smirk to drop from her face as she stares up at him. Simon and the other two Saviors make a quick decision to walk away in the direction of the compound entrance.

“Yes, she, fucking, _is_.” He barks. “There a fucking problem, Laura?” You make a mental note to not fall out of favor with Negan because _shit_ , he is intimidating. She glances back at you momentarily. “Well?” Negan demands, Lucille turning over in his hand. Her eyes drop to the ground.

“No, Negan.” She replies sternly.

“I thought the fuck not. Get in the fucking truck, you’re driving.” Laura nods at his orders and makes her way to the second truck, climbing into the driver’s seat. Negan turns back and approaches you; the corner of his mouth twitches upwards as he catches your eyes. He leans closer to you. “ _Coming?_ ” He gazes at you for a little longer than seems necessary. You glance back up at Laura and she looks toward you with impatience on her face and you decide it’s probably best to get straight in the truck. Negan straightens up behind you and follows, climbing up beside you as Dwight pulls around to the entrance of the compound.

Negan hangs an arm out the side of the truck as Laura moves up ahead of Dwight. Simon is quick to drag the front gate open and you can’t help but stare at the animated corpses as they stagger around in front of the fences, restrained by their chains and reaching – quite pathetically – towards the vehicles as you drive past them.

 

* * *

 

 

The first three hours of the journey were passed in almost a complete silence, broken only by Negan giving a direction here or there. Laura didn’t speak at all and although you made no attempt to look at her you were damn sure she had glanced periodically at you with a judgemental scowl. In fact you’d tried to keep your eyes on the road ahead the entire time but somehow you found that your eyes kept wandering subconsciously toward Negan; and you wonder if he’d returned the glances.

You find last night’s lack of sleep is finally catching up with you as you try to fight back a yawn. Negan seems to notice, though, as he clears his throat and finally breaks the silence. “You aren’t planning on falling fucking asleep on me again, are you?” You can’t tell if he’s joking or not but you respond with a silent glare; and you can feel Laura staring at you as a heat builds up in your face. Negan smirks that arrogant fucking smirk as he continuously gazes out the window.

“Shit…” You hear Laura mutter from beside you. “ _Shit_.”

Negan turns his attention forward, as do you. He lets out a frustrated sigh. “Stop the fucking truck.” He orders. The road ahead is blocked by a herd of the undead staggering mindlessly toward you. Laura slows the truck to a halt and grabs the radio tucked beside her.

“ _D, we got dead ones up ahead_.” She radios to Dwight as Negan reaches for Lucille as well as the assault rifles laid on the floor; he passes you one and you know you aren’t a great fucking shot with one of these things but you certainly aren’t unfamiliar with them, either.

“Bring the trucks around,” Negan commands, pulling open the door and stepping out. You follow down behind him. “We’re gonna divert these dead fuckers into the woods.” The plan made sense; killing them on the road would only mean having to spend time dragging the bodies back out of the way. Laura nods and puts the truck into reverse, relaying the plan over the radio as she does so. Keno drops out of the other truck and follows up behind you as Laura and Dwight pull up sideways across the road, blocking the path of the oncoming _dead fuckers_.

It hasn’t taken them long to reach you. You drop down from the side of the road and into the woods alongside Negan and Keno; Laura and Dwight aren’t far behind you. You can hear the corpses moaning and gnashing hungrily at you and a few of them have peeled off from the herd and into the woods but it isn’t enough; many of them are still headed toward the trucks.

Negan aims his rifle into the air and takes a couple shots upwards. It works; it’s gotten the attention of the corpses and they’re heading towards you. _Fuck. They’re heading towards you_.

“Spread out!” Dwight shouts, raising his rifle. Within seconds all five of you have opened fire. They begin to drop one by one but there’s so many more than you’d anticipated. You glance around and notice two more dead ones lumbering toward the group from the right and dammit they’re almost on top of Dwight.

“ _Dwight!_ ” You scream at him over the gunfire and he’s quick to put bullets through them as they are no more than a couple feet away from him. He nods briefly and continues firing forward.

Gradually the herd begins to thin.

But you feel a hand grasping at the back of your shirt. _Fuck_. You stumble backwards and try to keep your balance but you can’t; instead you fall back, landing on top of the decaying body as it gurgles and snaps at you, desperate to taste your flesh. You’re quick to roll away, narrowly avoiding a chunk being taken out of your shoulder but somewhere during the scuffle you’ve dropped your rifle and as you glance across the ground in search of it, another – much larger – corpse lumbers toward you.

Thinking fast you grasp at the knife strapped to your thigh and dive back toward the first body, jamming the knife deep inside of its skull. The body goes limp as you slide the knife back out and you turn to the second corpse as it reaches down desperately at you. You manage to penetrate its skull and it ceases clawing at you but the fucker is so large that you struggle to support its weight; it falls forward and the damn thing near crushes you; a putrid combination of congealed blood and decomposing innards spill out from its stomach as it lands on you; you attempt to crawl out from underneath as the gunfire slows to a cease.

“ _Fuck! Fucking help her!_ ” You hear Negan bellowing at the other Saviors. You glance up to see him picking off a couple more of the undead with Lucille as he attempts to make his way toward you. Keno reaches you first and drags the body away. You gasp for breath; the damn thing had crushed your chest as it’d fallen.

“It’s okay, I ‘m okay.” You huff assuredly as Negan strides forward, taking out another ambling corpse on the way. You drag yourself up from the ground.

“Jesus _fuck_.” He mutters as he stares at you. “Are you bit?” You shake your head.

“No,” You run your hands over your arms and shoulders. “No I think I’m fine.”

“You _goddamn_ sure?” Negan drops Lucille, slings the rifle over his back and grasps you by the shoulders to check you over. He runs his hands down your arms and back and _fuck_ you’d be lying if you denied his hands trailing down you back didn’t cause a shiver to run down your spine but _shit_ , he seems to be overreacting a little; and the look on Keno’s face certainly does nothing to refute that assessment. “Shit, doll, you scared the fucking _shit_ outta me.” His eyes lock with yours and he searches for confirmation that you’re really okay. You smile reassuringly.

It seems to take Negan a few seconds to remember that it’s not just the two of you out here and that the others are all now staring. Reluctantly, he let’s go of you and retrieves Lucille from the floor. He turns and begins heading back to the road.

“Let’s, get, fucking, _going_ then!” He drawls assertively.

Dwight and Keno walk on ahead, leaving you to walk beside Laura. She raises an eyebrow. “Those were some moves back there. Quick damn thinking.” She smiles for the first time at you.

“Yeah, well. I spent long enough out here by myself. You learn a thing or two, you know?” She nods agreeably.

“Guess so.” There’s a short pause before she speaks again. “So, you and Negan?” You frown at her.

“What?”

“Oh come on, he doesn’t even look at _Sherry_ the way he looks at you. It’s a little fucking obvious.” Laura rolls her eyes at you as you reach the edge of the road. Negan is already climbing into the driver’s side of the truck.

“I… I don’t know what you mean. What’s obvious?” You play dumb but you know it’s not fooling her.

“You’re fucking him, right?” She grins at you.

“ _What?_ No. I mean. I’ve literally known him-” Before you can finish your sentence Negan interrupts you.

“Hey, Laura!” He barks from inside the truck. “You’re with Dwight and Keno. I’m fucking driving.” The grin on Laura’s face only widens as she walks up toward Dwight’s truck.

“Oh yeah,” She walks backwards, smirking knowingly at you. “No _fucking_ going on there.” She shakes her head and climbs up into the truck with Dwight and Keno. You jump in beside Negan; he turns the engine over and drives up in front of the other truck to take the lead.

“So what were you talking to Laura about?” Negan asks, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Uh, nothing.” You can't help echoing Laura's words in your head, what did she mean about _the way he looks at you_.

“Do me a fucking favor, doll, and don’t lie to me.” His tone is serious but you notice he still speaks with a grin on his face.

“Okay,” You assert, bluntly. “She accused us of fucking.” His tongue slips out over his bottom lip and a soft laugh escapes him; why does he have to do that? Why does that have to be so _fucking attractive?_

“Well she’s not fucking wrong, is she?” He turns away from the road and looks at you.

“We haven’t fucked.” He raises his eyebrows and turns his gaze back.

“Not yet.”

 _Goddamn, he's an arrogant prick_.


	5. The fucking truth

The following hour is spent is silence. You stare out the side window of the truck, attempting not to think about Negan, but failing and subsequently thinking about nothing _but_ him. And what was Laura talking about?

_He doesn’t even look at Sherry the way he looks at you._

You’ve yet to meet Sherry – or any of _them_ for that matter; and you don’t exactly know Negan particularly well. But what you _do_ know is Negan sure seems to treat you differently than any of the other _Saviors_. And that must mean _something_. You’d ask him about it but you know the asshole will only come out with some sarcastic comment and look at you in that irritatingly seductive way. Instead you break the silence with an entirely different question.

“So where exactly are we going?” You continually stare out of the window as you ask.

“There’s a couple towns a day’s drive out.” He asserts.

“Seems a long way to go.”

“There’s fuck all else left near the Sanctuary. No supplies for miles so we gotta fucking try _something_.” You have to admit, he genuinely seems to care about his people. “Why’s that, doll? You in a fucking hurry to get back?” You glance at him and he raises an eyebrow as he stares out at the road.

“No.” You knew it; _sarcastic asshole_.

He pulls away from the steering wheel and reaches across the seats, placing a hand on your inner thigh. He squeezes gently and turns to look at you. “You fucking sure about that?” Half of you wants to tell him to fuck off but the other half wants to tell him to pull the truck over and fuck you there and then.

 _God damn_.

You settle on not telling him anything and conclude that simply removing his hand is probably the most sensible option. He obliges without hesitation, allowing you to place his hand on the seat between you, but seems pleasantly surprised when you choose to leave your hand resting on top of his. He doesn’t speak, but instead lets out a soft chuckle and smiles broadly, turning his eyes back to the road.

 

* * *

 

You spend the majority of the remaining journey in a contented silence; your fingers wrapped around his and it’s almost dark by the time you arrive in a town that looks half-way promising. It isn’t until you step out of the truck, you realize just how hungry you are; having not eaten anything besides an apple since before you’d left the Sanctuary this morning.

But eating is not your current priority as the others climb out of their vehicle and join you and Negan on the road. Negan gestures for Dwight and Keno to move in one direction whilst you, Laura and he go in the opposite direction. Without so much as a word to one another you raise your weapons and scout the immediate area for signs of danger; and it doesn’t take long to wipe out any threat; a couple corpses here, a couple there. It was certainly nothing that Lucille or a knife couldn’t handle.

You bend down to wipe the blade of your knife across the back of a fallen corpse. As you stand, you witness Negan shake Lucille at his side, causing pieces of decayed flesh and putrid blood to splash across the tarmac. He glances at you briefly as you meet up with the others beside the trucks.

“I don’t know the fuck about you all, but I sure as shit don’t feel like searching for supplies in the fucking dark…” He declares, pulling the back door of one of the trucks open. He climbs up into the back of the truck and re-emerges a few seconds later with a bottle of water.

“Wanna wait until morning?” Dwight asks, shifting from one leg to the other and slipping a knife into his belt. You watch as Negan carefully pours the contents of the water bottle over Lucille, staining the tarmac beneath a deep red.

“Get some food and get some sleep. I want everyone fucking _wide awake_ by sunrise tomorrow.” He throws the empty bottle into the back of the truck. “I know there’s _gotta_ be some _good fucking shit around here_.” He replaces Lucille over his shoulder in what you’re beginning to realize is a signature pose for him. “I got a good fucking feeling.” He grins. “Keno, you’re on first watch.” Keno nods silently and turns to move a little down the road. “And there’s blankets in both trucks so make yourselves fucking comfy.” He calls out as Dwight and Laura head to the back of the other truck, dragging out a crate that – thank god – appears to have food inside.

You turn to Negan. “So uh, we’re sharing the back of the truck?”

“Well I don’t fucking know about you but I ain’t fucking sleeping out here with all these dead pricks roaming about.” He sighs. “Look, it makes you un-fucking-comfortable for some reason, you can… Sleep in the other goddamn truck with Laura.” Well, how considerate of him. You roll your eyes. “Look, I promise to be a real goddamn fucking gentleman if it makes you feel better, doll.” He smiles that incredibly charming smile of his. “ _I promise_.”

“It’s fine.” You assert, attempting to ignore the look he’s giving you and walking over to Dwight and Laura to help them with the food.

 

* * *

 

You wondered if you’d _ever_ get used to the taste of real food again after living off of nothing but tinned and stale food for so long. And damn, who knew a simple meal of bread and freshly made vegetable soup could taste so fucking good. Laura must have noticed the look of satisfaction on your face.

“Yeah, we got some good cooks at the Sanctuary, right?” She smiles beside you as you perch on the back of the truck and finish off the remainder of your bread.

“No shit.” You respond, grinning. You glance out across the road and see Negan speaking with Dwight, probably making plans for the following days scouting, you surmise. Keno patrols back and forth, further down the road.

“You know, you’re alright.” Laura assesses, finishing off the last of her own meal.

“Uh, thanks.” You frown at her; Was that an attempt at a compliment?

“I mean, I get it. You’re a good fighter and you hold your own. Still, I don’t get why Negan treats you like you’re so fucking special but, whatever.” A soft laugh escape you.

“Yeah, you figure that one out, let me know.” You shake your head.

“You aren’t complaining.”

“No…” You look up to meet her eyes and can’t help but crack a wide smile, “But have you fucking seen the man?” She laughs.

“Bet he’s a good fucking lay.” The two of you are still attempting to stifle your laughing as Negan and Dwight make their way back toward you.

“Ladies.” Negan smirks with raised eyebrows.

“Negan.” Laura manages to reply through her giggling. Negan glances between the two of you as though trying to figure out what's so funny.

“Nice to see you getting fucking along. I’m turning in.” He declares.

“Yeah, good idea.” Laura nods and stands up, winking at you out of Negan’s view as she turns and walks away. Dwight follows behind her and you climb up into the back of the truck. Negan follows, pulling the door shut behind you both and flicking on a small, battery operated lamp; illuminating the dark space with a dim, yellow glow.

You look down at your bloodied tank top and sigh. Negan seems to notice.

“Here,” He unzips his jacket and shrugs it off his shoulders, “Wear mine.” And the next thing you know he’s pulling off his damn shirt and handing it to you. “There’s plenty enough water, you can rinse yours out and it’ll be good in the morning.” He suggests.

You aren’t sure how to respond and instead of saying something you find yourself gazing at his shirtless body like a fucking idiot. _Sure_ he’d been shirtless the day before when you were… Doing _whatever_ _that_ was. But he’d been pressed up so close to you that you hadn’t really taken in just how fucking impressive he was; his muscular frame; his dark chest hair; the tattoos on his arms and left side of his chest. _Somehow_ he managed to look even more muscular and broad shouldered _without_ the jacket on than he did _with_ it.

You take the shirt and manage to mutter a _thank you_ before pulling your own shirt off. You might have been a little more conserved about being completely topless in front of him but after yesterday it hardly seemed necessary.

“ _Damn, sweetheart._ Look, I know I promised to be a gentleman about it, but if you’re gonna fucking _strip down_ in front of me like that then, _shit_. I won’t be held responsible for my actions.” Suddenly he’s staring at you the same way you’d been staring at him, but you try and hide the grin as you pull his t-shirt down over you; and it’s certainly way too big for you, but it’ll do.

You grab a bottle of water from the back of the truck and then push the door back open, jumping out into the darkness. You notice Keno eyeing you curiously from across the road as you pour the water over your shirt and attempt to rub out as much of the blood stains as you can. No doubt he’s noticed you’re wearing Negan’s t-shirt but you purposefully avoid eye contact with him. Well great, that’ll be something else for Laura to question you about in the morning.

Having spread your shirt out across the hood of the truck, you climb back up into the back and pull closed the door. Negan is sitting on the floor of the truck atop of a number of neatly laid blankets. He shrugs. “Not quite my king sized fucking bed but it’ll do.”

“King sized?” You question, wide-eyed. It only causes him to smile again as he lays back against the floor and closes his eyes. “Well I’ve slept in worse places.” You drop down beside him.

You lay silently side by side for a few minutes. “Negan, I need to ask you something.”

“Shoot.” He responds, still laying motionless.

“It’s just…” Your throat feels dry as you begin speaking. “Okay, don’t take this the wrong way but, why are you so nice to me?” He frowns but his eyes are still closed.

“The fuck are you talking about?” He demands.

“Look it’s kinda obvious, I mean the way you treat the other Saviors… Hell the way you treat _anyone_ , it’s totally different.” He shifts against the floor. “Dwight sure as hell noticed it and so did Laura.”

“You wanna know the fucking truth?” He rolls onto his side to meet your gaze and you can just about make out his deep brown eyes in the darkness. You nod in answer to the question. “I’ve got no fucking idea.” He huffs, almost irritably. You frown at his response. “Jesus fuck, doll. There’s something about you.” There’s an awkward pause.

“It’s not just about getting in my damn pants, then?” You question, seriously.

“Fuck, darlin’. If it was just about, getting some _pussy_ , don’t you think I can get enough of that from my _goddamn wives?_ ” You swallow hard at his response and honestly have no idea how you’re supposed to feel. You opt to turn away from him, moving onto your side.

At first he doesn’t respond but then you feel him move closer. He pulls himself up to rest on one elbow and leans over you, placing his hand on your shoulder and urging you to face him again. You lay flat against the floor of the truck once more and he places a gentle hand on your cheek. He smiles down at you and his eyes are locked onto yours.

“Shit.” He mutters. “Look, I haven’t looked at a woman the way I look at you, since… Before this, _goddamn fucking apocalypse_.” He admits. And fuck it, you don’t know if those were the words you wanted to hear or not but it damn sure explained a lot. “I don’t know what the fuck else you want me to say.” Nothing. He doesn’t need to say anything because what he’s said is already enough.

You reach up and pull him down toward you. He moves his hand from your cheek and wraps both arms around your back, guiding you over and on top of him; and your mouth finds his as he holds you in a strong embrace. Your lips press together in a gentle and passionate kiss and it’s not long before his tongue is seeking yours and he kisses you harder. His hands fall down to your hips and he holds you against him – and there’s that goddamn layer of denim between you both again.

And then he pulls you away abruptly.

“Fuck, sweetheart, as much as I wanna tear those _goddamn_ pants off you right now and go to fucking _town_ on that pussy, I am _not_ screwing you in the back of this _goddamn truck_.” You frown discontentedly.

“You’re kidding me?” You huff at him.

“I told you, you’re gonna have to wait ‘til _we, get, back_.” And with that he presses his lips hard against yours and pulls you over on to your back. Dragging his mouth away from you once again he wavers above you momentarily. You bite your lip and frown up at him. _Goddammit_. “Sorry, doll.” He leans down and gives you one last, agonizingly deep kiss and then throws himself back against the floor of the truck.

A soft sigh escapes you as you lay back and close your eyes, trying to ignore the desperate heat in the pit of your stomach; then you feel his hand; he reaches for you and a smile creeps over your face as his fingers entwine with yours in the darkness.


	6. Fucking sorry

You wake to the sound of muffled thudding, interspersed with occasional scraping; what _is_ that _sound?_ You force open your eyes and as your brain begins to regain consciousness you realize two things; firstly, you and Negan have somehow become entangled with each other during the night; his arm draped over your waist and your head resting on his chest, whilst your own arm rests near his hip. Even your legs are wrapped around one another and you can’t help but wonder how in the _fuck_ this happened. But secondly – and more alarmingly – the sounds you are hearing are most certainly the sounds of corpses passing carelessly past the truck.

You shift awkwardly against the floor and lift your head away from Negan’s chest. Glancing up you don’t have a chance to speak before he presses a finger to your lips. “Don’t fucking make a sound.” He whispers, glancing around the walls of the truck. “There’s a shit ton of fucking dead pricks out there.” You nod and he drops his finger from your lips. “We’re just gonna have to wait it out.” He turns his gaze back to you and the corner of his mouth twitches up into a smile. His eyes trail over the pair of you wrapped around each other and he raises an eyebrow as though questioning how you’ve ended up this way.

“Shut up.” You mumble, and it only causes him to smile more broadly before pulling you closer and initiating a gentle kiss. You kiss him back, your fingers trail through the hair of his broad chest and fall down to tease at the waistline of his jeans. His kisses become deeper and more desperate as your hand strokes over the denim of his jeans; you can feel him begin to harden but as your hand works the buckle of his belt he pulls your face away from his and stares at you with a look that questions what the _fuck_ you think you’re doing. And it’s a good question, really.

“Gotta pass the time somehow.” You shrug and he smirks, laying his head back against the floor with a sigh and allowing you to place kisses over his neck as you work loose his belt.

“Fuck it, doll, you are something else.” He mutters. The sounds of the undead reverberate on the outside of the truck as you kiss over his chest and stomach. You pull open his belt and unzip his pants with ease, before slipping your hand into his dark grey boxer shorts. You hear his breath hitch slightly as your hand glides over his erection and you drag down his boxers. You move your mouth to his cock and for a moment you find yourself marvelling at his impressive size. You glance upward briefly as your hand glides over him and you notice he now has his eyes closed.

And then your tongue runs slowly from the base of his cock to the tip and you hear his breath hitch once again. You repeat the motion, fully intending to drag this out for as long as possible – and you could call it payback for the two days previous. Your tongue lingers at his head tracing shapes teasingly; and then you close your lips around him and _Jesus_ , you try your best to take all of him but _goddamn_ there’s a lot to take. You move your mouth slowly over him, your tongue gliding over the underside of his cock as you build up a gentle rhythm.

You close your eyes and continue moving at a slow pace and you can tell he’s becoming frustrated as his hips buck gently forward. Releasing him for a moment you notice he pulls himself up to rest on his elbows.

“Jesus-fucking-Christ, don’t you _fucking, stop, now_.” He demands in a furious whisper, pulling his fingers through your hair and gripping the back of your head. You do as instructed, licking at the pearl-white drops forming at the tip of his cock before taking him back into your mouth fully. And you begin to move at a faster pace; partially because you _really_ want to make him fucking come but partially because his grip on the back of your head is forcing you to move at _his_ pace now and not yours.

You feel his muscles begin to tense and you know he’s close to release. His hips jerk slightly and his breathing quickens. “Fuck…” He growls and if you didn’t have his cock in your mouth you’d be smirking at him right now. He begins rolling his hips in time with your movements and it’s become less about you sucking his cock and more about him fucking your mouth; somehow he’s in control of the situation and _God damn_ if you aren’t _really_ fucking desperate for him to be fucking something other than your mouth right now.

And then his body jerks as he attempts to silence a soft groan and you know he’s reached the point of release; he comes hard into your mouth and you gladly accept, swallowing down his come and then trailing your tongue over his length; gliding over his head and taking in every last drop.

Seemingly now satisfied, his body relaxes a little and he pulls you up toward him; and then his mouth is back on yours and your tongues clash as though he’s desperate to taste himself against you.

“ _Negan._ ” A hushed voice calls from the outside of the truck, pulling you both back to reality. As he lets you go you realize the sound of the passing herd has been replaced by silence. You gaze at the slim crack between the truck doors where sunlight is streaming onto you both. “ _Negan._ ” It’s Dwight’s voice. You roll away as Negan attempts to replace his boxers and jeans before pulling himself upright. He kicks open the back door of the truck whilst still attempting to zip the jeans. He drops down to the ground and you stand in the doorway and glance out at Dwight.

“The fuck is it?” Negan demands. Dwight doesn’t take much notice of his appearance to begin with.

“A herd passed through-”

“No fucking shit.” Negan interrupts, pulling on his belt buckle and fastening it as Laura appears from the side of the truck. Dwight glances between you and Negan momentarily.

“It’s Keno,” Dwight continues, moving his eyes back to Negan.

“Don’t know what happened to him.” Laura pauses for a moment as she takes in the sight of you still wearing Negan’s shirt and him; shirtless and fastening his belt. “He uh, he took over lookout again just before dawn. Just before the dead ones…” Her words trail.

“Shit. Fucking _shit_.” Negan assesses. He turns and climbs back into the truck, brushing past you and retrieving Lucille from the floor. You follow him back out of the truck. “Search the immediate area; if he’s fucking _alive_ I want him found.” He speaks directly to Dwight as you turn around to the front of the truck.

Well, at least the dead fuckers have left your shirt in one piece. You pull Negan’s shirt off out of view of Dwight and replace your own tank top. Rounding the back of the truck again you throw Negan’s shirt at him. He catches your eye for the briefest of moments before dragging the t-shirt down over his head and swinging Lucille over his shoulder.

“Find him.” Negan’s orders are directed just as much at you as they are at Dwight and Laura. You reach back into the truck to retrieve your knife, and then head in an opposite direction to the others.

You’ve barely walked a few meters from the trucks when you hear Negan’s voice again. “ _Shit!_ Goddammit, Keno.” _He’s found him_. You pace back down the road toward Negan; Dwight and Laura follow closely behind you. You find Negan on his knees, ducked in an alleyway, Keno propped up against the wall in front of him.

“ _Oh god, oh god, oh god_.” Keno is repeating the words, his head rolling back against the wall. You glance down; half his goddamn legs are missing and you can see the bone protruding what’s left of his flesh. The pricks have taken a decent sized chunk from his left arm, too; ribbons of bloodied skin hang limply from bone as he stares toward the sky.

“ _Shit…_ ” Negan sighs and shakes his head. “I’m fucking sorry, Keno.” Before Keno can reply, Negan slides the knife from its sheath on his lower belt and within a second presses it firmly up and inside the back of Keno’s skull. His body goes limp and his head lolls to one side. Negan sighs and lowers his head, wiping the blade of his knife across Keno’s already bloodied shirt. You place a hand on Negan’s shoulder in some attempt at comfort but you wonder if it’s neither necessary nor appreciated.

Negan simply stands and turns away from Keno, shrugging your hand from him. “We’ve got a goddamn job to do, people. The _fuck_ are y’all standing around for?”


	7. Real fucking shitty

“I don’t get it.” You confess to Laura as you check out the first floor of a dilapidated mall. Laura glances at you.

“What? That he took Dwight instead of you?” Laura smirks.

“No. Well, yes.” It isn’t just that Negan had paired you off with Laura; but his reaction to Keno’s death. It was entirely different from the way he’d reacted when you’d ripped the guts out of one of his Saviors previously. You notice Laura is studying your face as though attempting to work out what has you so distracted. She takes a deep breath.

“Keno was with us a long time.” She pauses as you wander inside a store; no corpses so far. “He takes it pretty hard, sometimes. Unless-”

“Unless they do something to deserve it.” You interrupt. Laura nods. “The man I killed…” Your words trail to silence.

“Hadn’t been with us long. Sure Negan was pissed about losing a Savior, from what Dwight tells me. But the dude was an asshole.” Laura assures.

“Tell me about it.” You raise an eyebrow, kicking at tattered magazine pages at your feet.

“Floor’s clear.” Laura radios to Negan and Dwight, who are currently exploring the floor below you.

“ _Copy that_.” Dwight’s voice responds over the radio.

You glance around the store you’re currently in; some type of clothing place, partially filled with garments that had certainly seen better days. But Laura has noticed the same thing you have; a beat-up looking vending machine near the entrance.

Lowering her rifle, Laura pulls out a knife and wedges it in the door of the machine. Not to your surprise, it’s already been tampered with and falls open easily. “Shit.” Laura mutters and the disappointment is obvious in her voice. “One fucking bag of chips.” She takes the packet and turns to face you.

“Well, better than nothing, right?” You shrug. Laura approaches the counter beside you and climbs up onto it. You sling your own rifle over your back and climb up next to her as she pulls open the bag and takes a handful of chips before passing it to you.

“So, you gonna tell me about last night or you gonna keep me guessing?” Laura demands, swallowing down a mouthful of stale potato chips. You knew this question was coming. “And don’t pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about.” She raises her eyebrows knowingly.

“None of your fucking business.” You respond sharply.

“Oh _come on_. We’re friends now, right?” She gazes, awaiting your response.

“I guess.” You take a mouthful of chips.

“ _Well?_ ” She’s not giving up. You sigh and roll your eyes.

“He said we weren’t gonna fuck in the back of a fucking truck.” Laura smirks. “ _What?_ It’s true.” You try to suppress a grin behind another handful of chips but she notices.

“But let me guess you pushed your luck?” You narrow your eyes at her. “ _Knew it_. He practically had his fucking pants down when he opened the door of the damn truck.” Laura chuckles and shakes her head. You snatch the bag of chips from her and take another handful, choosing not to reply. “I guess the fact he has four wives at the Sanctuary doesn’t bother you.” You quickly drop your gaze to the floor. Truth is it plays on your mind a lot. But after what he’d said last night you want to convince yourself that whatever you and he have right now, it’s different. But fuck, you’ve known him for approximately three days so who knows what any of this means to either of you.

“No.” You lie. “Life’s too short.” That part isn’t a lie.

“I respect that.” Laura grins and jumps down from the counter top. “Let’s see if we can find something useful in this dump.” She sighs and heads out of the clothing store and you follow behind.

There’s a pharmacy a couple stores down. It looks ransacked already but there are still items on some of the shelves and scattered about the floor. You crouch to gather up some boxes of varying pills from a bottom shelf when you hear footsteps approaching. As you turn you see Negan, silhouetted against the daylight that streams through shattered windows. He steps forward and you notice he still has the same irritable expression on his face as he had earlier. He drags a hand over his beard and sighs.

“Anything?” Negan asks. You look down, purposefully avoiding eye contact but you can feel him staring at you.

“Not much.” Laura responds – and it’s a good job she does because you struggle to find words. “We’ll take what we can.”

“D, unload the crates from the trucks and give Laura a hand with whatever the fuck you can find.” You see Dwight disappear out of the corner of your eye as he follows Negan’s orders. You continue you avoid Negan’s stare. “Laura. Go help Dwight.” You look up at Laura. She opens her mouth to respond but before she can say a word Negan speaks again. “Fucking _now_ , Laura.”

He is in a really bad fucking mood.

He strolls further into the store as Laura disappears after Dwight – handing him her radio on the way out – and hovers directly above you and it’s more than a little intimidating. Lucille wavers in front of your face and you notice blood dripping from her once again.

“There’s fuck all but corpses on the ground floor.” He announces.

“Right…” You half nod and stand up to face him. “Are you… You know, okay?” He frowns at your question.

“Look, doll.” He takes a deep breath and places a hand on your cheek. His touch is warm and comforting. “What happened with Keno is real fucking shitty. But do you not think I’ve lost enough fucking men before now?” He smiles sarcastically. “What are you, genuinely concerned for my wellbeing?” No, you aren’t concerned. Are you? “Well, _shit_.”

“I just-” You begin to tell him that you are concerned. Because why wouldn’t you be after the concern he’s shown _you_ in the last couple days?

“Just fucking don’t.” His eyes convey a sympathetic warning. What the fuck is his problem?

“Well I fucking _won’t_ , then.” You retort and you can see his grip tightening around Lucille.

He turns to walk away but pauses with his back to you. “We’re clearing out the second floor, with any fucking luck we might find some decent shit and this whole goddamn trip won’t have been a waste of _fucking time_.” He states bluntly. You take a deep breath, pull your rifle back over your shoulder and head out toward the staircase.

 

* * *

 

The following hour was spent in almost complete silence, aside from the combination of groaning and gargling corpses eager to taste flesh, and Lucille cracking skulls apart. Fortunately the second floor was much like the first; the corpses were few and far between and it didn’t take long to pick them off between the two of you.

Disappointingly, the majority of stores across the mall seem to have been completely exhausted of any practical supplies already. Negan pauses in front of a hardware store and steps inside. Holding out Lucille he knocks hard against a metal display case. You stand in silence, anticipating the sound of any lingering corpses. Glancing around the place seems like it could potentially have something worthwhile in it. You approach the counter toward the back of the store.

But then you feel something grasp at your ankle. Staring down you realize there’s a goddamn corpse splayed out across the floor behind the counter; half decomposed it’s body is practically fused to the floor but that doesn’t stop it from clawing and snapping it’s fucking jaws at you.

“ _Fuck!_ ” It’s got a firm grip on your ankle and as you attempt to pull backwards you slip on its damned guts and you can feel yourself toppling backwards and there’s nothing you can do to stop it from happening. You attempt to grab your knife but it’s too late. Your head hits the counter top shooting an agonizing pain through the back of your skull.

Negan’s swinging Lucille as your vision blurs and you hit the floor. Now there’s a searing pain as something tears through the flesh of your stomach. You glance downward and all you can see is a dark red pulsing from your body and you know you’ve been bit. Fuck. Fucking _fuck_. You clutch at your stomach and the room spins. Pain radiates through you and you hear Negan bellowing – presumably through the radio – at the others but you can’t focus on the words. And then he’s there beside you on his knees but you can scarcely make out his face.

“I…” You struggle to speak. “I… I can’t…” You’re trying to tell him you can’t see him.

“Shh it’s okay. You’re okay.” His voice sounds distant as he attempts to comfort you. “You’re gonna be fucking okay.” His words are despondent and you know he’s saying them just as much for himself as he is for you because how can you be okay; how can any of this be _fucking okay?_

You being to drift in and out of consciousness.

Negan is there; he’s leaning over you, his hands pressing down hard against the bleeding and _shit_ does it hurt; it _really_ fucking hurts. And the pain is unbearable.

Then there’s blackness again.

You open your eyes and daylight washes over you in waves. And Negan is still there. You feel the leather of his jacket against your face and you try to focus on that instead of the pain.

The next time you open your eyes you find yourself staring up at him.

You’re in the truck and you attempt to speak but you can’t manage words. Your head is throbbing. Your stomach feels worse. Negan is driving and you’re laid across him with your head in his lap and his arm is around you, one hand still pressing hard against your wound as the other grips the steering wheel.

“Neg… Negan…” You manage to whisper his name and he glances down at you.

“Shh. It’s okay I got you. You’re gonna be goddamn fine we’re almost there.” He assures. “I got you.” You close your eyes and drift back out of consciousness.


	8. Fuck that hurts

You’re alive. You’re still alive; at least for the moment. But you have no idea where you are. Attempting to open your eyes you find your vision is still blurred but at least the pain has subsided somewhat; both in your stomach and head. You close your eyes again. Wherever you are, it’s warm and comfortable; not the truck, for sure.

Maybe you’re dreaming.

“Negan?” You mumble, and begin to wonder why in hell his name is the first word out of your mouth.

“Hey, hey I’m here.” The familiar voice drifts over you and you hear footsteps approaching from the right. You attempt to move but as you do so, you feel a painful sting in your lower right side. You grit your teeth and draw a sharp breath. “Whoa, slow down, doll; take it easy.” His voice is right beside you now.

You blink open your eyes again and attempt to focus on your surroundings. Large windows adorn the wall to your right, surrounded by dark drapes. A black leather couch, armchairs and a glass coffee table sit in front of the windows. And then you realise you’re in a bed and it’s the comfiest bed you’ve ever laid in; even before the goddamn apocalypse happened. Wherever the fuck you are, it’s certainly more comfortable and elegant than anywhere else you could imagine.

That’s it. You must be dreaming. You close your eyes for a moment and take a deep breath and you’re positive you’re hallucinating.

“Talk to me.” Negan’s voice causes you to open your eyes again. You roll your head to the right and find yourself face to face with him. He’s kneeling by the bedside and gazing at you with a look of genuine concern.

“Negan?” You repeat his name. He shifts against the floor and brings his hand up to yours. He holds onto you gently. “I’m… I’m dreaming.” You murmur.

“What? The fuck you are.” He frowns at you.

“I…” You swallow hard; your mouth is dry. “I got bit.” You gaze into his deep brown eyes and your heart sinks as you remember the intense pain that tore through you. You shut your eyes tight, attempting to stop yourself from crying. You feel stupid.

“Hey, baby,” his thumb brushes your cheek as a tear escapes your eye. “You didn’t get bit. You’re okay.” You can’t comprehend the words.

“But… I saw it. I felt it.” You gaze back into his eyes, attempting to understand what he’s telling you. He lifts a glass of water from the table beside the bed and holds it up for you to drink.

“It didn’t bite you. You’re fucking okay. You fell onto a piece of goddamn fucking metal and it went straight the fuck through you. Hit your head pretty damn hard on the way down, too. I killed the prick before it could get a fucking taste of you.” You aren’t sure how to respond.

“You-” He replaces the glass.

“Saved your pretty fucking ass. Yes the fuck I did.” He nods with an pretentious grin and if you weren’t in so much pain right now you’d be kissing the bastard. He raises an eyebrow at you as you lay staring at him. “Thank you, Negan. Oh, no fucking problem, sweetheart.” He teases sarcastically and you attempt to stifle a laugh.

“Oh, shit, don’t make me laugh. _Fuck_ , that hurts.” You wince in pain. Negan chuckles to himself.

“Yeah, it’s gonna hurt like a mother-fucking bitch for a few days yet. But the doc patched you up pretty good.”

“The doc?” You repeat.

“Doctor Carson. He’s the best we got. He says a few more days rest-”

“Wait.” You interrupt him. “How long have I been out for?”

“A couple days already. I was worried as shit you might not wake up at all.” You take a deep breath and glance around you again; you’re still wondering where you are.

“Where am I?” Negan pulls himself up from the floor.

“You’re in my _king-sized_ _bed_ , doll. Where the fuck d’you think you are?” Your eyes widen as he stands there staring at you with a grin on his face. “Hey, I told you I was a perfect fucking gentleman and that I most surely am. Shit, you being laid up here has got me sleeping on the goddamn couch.” You want to ask him why. Why are you in his bed? Why aren’t you in your own room, or someplace where Doctor Carson was? Before you can ask anything you hear a knocking on the door.

You watch as Negan turns away from you and pulls open the door. It’s Joseph. He’s carrying a silver plate and Negan simply stares at him expectantly.

“Oh I err, I brought you something to eat, Negan.” Negan purses his lips and nods, taking the silver plate from Joseph.

“Hey, Joey?” He raises his eyebrows.

“Yes, Negan?”

“I’m gonna need another plate, and go get Doctor Carson.” He demands. Joseph glances momentarily in your direction and smiles briefly. He turns back to Negan, nodding.

“I’ll be right back.” He assures, before hurrying out of the door. Negan swings the door shut casually and approaches the bed again.

“Hungry?” You’re starving. You nod and attempt to pull yourself up into a sitting position. You tense as the pain radiates from the hole in your side. Negan notices and drops the plate onto the bed and is quick to hold onto you.

“I’m okay.” You reassure him.

“You’re not. Take it slow. That’s a fucking order.” He demands, grabbing pillows from the other side of the bed and propping them up behind you. As you settle into a more comfortable position you notice that you’re wearing baggy, grey boxer shorts and an oversized, plain white t-shirt. He must have noticed you gazing at your clothing because he grins. “ _God damn_ , my clothes look better on you than they do on me. And that’s fucking saying something.” You simply raise an eyebrow at him. “Look I told you, fucking gentleman, right? I told Doctor Carson to put them on you.”

You shake your head with a smile as he picks the plate back up and hands it to you. It’s a simple meal of fresh vegetables, meat and bread. But you’re so hungry that as you begin eating it tastes like the greatest meal you ever had. Negan perches on the edge of the bed and watches you, which is a little unnerving, to say the least.

Swallowing your current mouthful, you look up at him. And you can’t help but wonder whether his wives know about you staying in his bed.

“You’ve got that same damn look on your face.” He sighs.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You frown at him.

“Like you’re about to say something that you _know_ is gonna piss me the fuck off, but _goddammit_ you’re gonna say it fucking _anyway_.” Is it that obvious? “Am I fucking right?”

“Do they know, about us? Do your wives even know that I’m here? I mean, in your room? In your _bed?_ ” It still bothers you.

“The fuck should I know?” He shakes his head and his tongue slips out over his bottom lip as he gazes at you. “Word travels fast around here, doll. So I’m guessing yes. They do.”

“You haven’t told them?”

“I haven’t fucking seen them.” He sighs again and looks away for a moment, before glancing back up at you with a look of complete honesty in his eyes. He bites his bottom lip for a moment. “You wanna know the truth? I haven’t left your side since we got back.” You’re a little taken back by his words. “Shit, I don’t know what the fucks gotten into me, I haven’t gotten any _goddamn pussy_ in days do you fucking _realize_ that?” A smile creeps over your face and you want to laugh. And although he tries to mask his words with a humorous tone, you know that he’s trying to tell you he genuinely cares about you.

There’s another knock at the door. Negan pulls up from the bed and strides back toward the door, swinging it open nonchalantly. An older, slightly gaunt-looking man wearing a white coat steps through the door; this must be Doctor Carson. He’s preceded by Joseph, carrying another plateful of food.

“Negan.” Carson nods briefly at Negan with an impartial expression and then approaches you. Negan huffs and bites his tongue, taking the plate from Joseph and throwing the door closed without uttering a word. He places the plate on the coffee table and follows behind Carson.

“How are you feeling?” Carson asks you.

“I’ve been better.” You’re honest.

“You’re lucky. The puncture missed any vital organs.” He speaks matter-of-factly. “A couple of weeks rest you should be alright. And I _mean, rest_.” You nod and glance at Negan as he stands behind the doctor. Negan simply raises an eyebrows and smirks suggestively, leaning back as he does so. You look back at Carson as he pulls out two boxes of pills from his pocket. “Take these, they’ll help with the pain and fight off any possible infection. You’ll likely be pretty drowsy, though.” He places the boxes on the table beside you.

“She’s gonna be alright, doc?” Negan asks, an air of unease apparent on his face. Carson turns around to face him.

“She’ll be fine, but I’d rather she was in the infirmary where I could keep a closer eye-” He’s cut off by Negan’s stern tone.

“No. She stays the fuck here.” He demands.

“It just makes more sense-”

“Are you fucking _hearing_ me? I fucking said _no_.” Carson sighs and lowers his head.

“Yes, okay.” He nods. “I’ll check back first thing in the morning.”

“Yes, you, fucking, _will_.” Negan drawls with a smile, before throwing a hand around Carson’s shoulder and ushering him toward the door. Carson turns his head back over his shoulder to glance at you before leaving.

“If you need anything-”

“If she needs anything I’ll be sure to let you know, doc.” Negan interrupts, guiding him out of the door and slamming it abruptly. He turns back to you and his expression softens again as he picks up the packets of pills and pops some out, handing them to you. You watch him admirably. “What?” he notices you’re staring at him and you realize you’re now grinning, too. He seems determined not to let you out of his sight and it’s kind of endearing, if you’re honest.

“Nothing.” You swallow down the pills with a mouthful of water.

“Fuck it, sweetheart, you got me wrapped around your little finger. _Damn_.” He shakes his head as a soft laugh escapes him. He takes the glass from you, before leaning over and placing strong arms either side of you. His face hovers over yours and you gaze at one another for what could be an eternity for all you know because, right now, you’re lost in him.

Then his lips press softly against yours and the world falls away. Your hands travel over the back of his neck and you pull your fingers through his dark waves of hair. And his kisses are gentle this time, as though he’s apprehensive of causing you any discomfort.

Then he pulls himself up above you, cautiously, his knees resting either side of you he lingers for a moment before pulling away and dropping softly down onto the bed beside you. He rests on his side, propped up on one elbow. His fingers find their way to your cheek and he traces circles on your skin. You want to say something as you gaze at him but you can’t find words. Negan, however, never seeming to be at a loss for words, speaks instead.

“You know, I fucking left Lucille, for you.” He sighs.

“What?”

“In that goddamn hardware store. I was so fucking worried about you doll I fucking forgot her.” He stares at you with a bewildered expression. “And that never fucking happens. I mean, _shit_ , it _never_ happens.” What are you supposed to say to that?

You feel your eyes growing heavy as he continues to stroke his fingers over your cheek. And you begin to wonder again if all of this is a dream because _shit_ , you’ve never felt so content and protected in your life; and you were almost fatally wounded, in the middle of a goddamn apocalypse where the dead don’t die, lying beside a psychopath who enjoys beating people to death with a fucking baseball bat.

 

* * *

 

The next couple days are spent drifting in and out of sleep; Doctor Carson wasn’t kidding when he said the pills would make you drowsy. But each time you woke you found Negan was right there in the room with you. Most often he was propped up on the couch, glancing over papers and making notes. You wondered occasionally what he was doing but you assumed it was just general Sanctuary business. Doctor Carson popped in every morning and evening to check up you, and there was always someone bringing meals right to the door.

“So doc, how’s she doing?” Negan sits on the edge of the bed as Doctor Carson removes the bandages from your side that evening. You wince as he pulls at the tape. Staring down you notice that the wound has improved considerably; but judging by the stitches you conclude it’s likely to leave an impressive scar.

“Good.” Carson replies. “I think we can ease up on the painkillers a little… But you’re still going to have to rest a couple of weeks longer before you’re fit for anything.” You find yourself gazing at Negan rather than paying full attention to Carson. “Try and get up and moving around a bit more but, don’t overdo it.” Negan has a genuine smile on his face as Carson speaks and he continues to smile at you as the bandages are replaced.

Negan stays situated on the bed as Doctor Carson stands to leave. He gives you a quick nod before heading out, but something causes him to pause in the doorway. “Sherry.” He greets. Carson glances momentarily back at Negan before making a swift exit.

Negan takes a deep breath and stands as Sherry enters the room. You haven’t seen her yet, although you’ve heard the other Saviors talk about her. She’s one of Negan’s wives – his favourite, if Dwight’s comments are anything to go by. And you knew it was only a matter of time before she wondered what was up with Negan and came looking for him. She walks into the room wearing a short black dress and black heels. You can’t help but notice she’s really quite pretty.

“Sherry.” Negan greets her indifferently. Sherry doesn’t speak, instead her gaze falls from Negan to you and she looks at you almost pitifully – which is not what you’d expected. After a short pause she looks away and back at Negan.

“No one has seen you for days.” She states.

“No shit. I’m busy.” Negan replies bluntly. Sherry drops her gaze to the floor and bites her bottom lip. “What’s up? You girls missing me?” He raises a hand to her chin and lifts her head back to meet his eyes. “Can’t say I fucking blame you.” The corners of his lips pull up into that arrogant smirk like he’s God’s own gift. She narrows her eyes at him.

“So what,” Sherry speaks again, and she has a look that suggests she can’t stand his touch but she’s too scared to pull away from him. He steps forward, towering over her so that she has to crane her neck to keep her eyes on his. “You’re going to make her your wife as well, now?” She glances in your direction but he’s holding her gaze. She looks intimidated.

“Is that really any of your goddamn business, Sherry?” She doesn’t reply. He places his tongue between his teeth and expels a _tsk_ , before releasing Sherry from his grip and taking a step backwards. “No.” He affirms. “I fucking am not.” He glances at you and you don’t know how you’re supposed to feel.

“And yet she’s sleeping in your bed?” Sherry retorts.

“What I do when you’re not here is none of your business.” His tone is hushed as he smirks at her. With that she turns toward the door and walks away from him, pausing to look at you once again with an uneasy and sympathetic expression as though genuinely concerned for you and the relationship you have developed with Negan. You return her stare with one of indifference.

“I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into.” She attempts a bleak smile before exiting the room and closing the door behind her. What is that supposed to mean?

“Jesus-fucking-Christ.” Negan mutters. “Don’t pay any attention to Sherry.” He urges, dropping beside you. But you don’t. How could you? You already know what you’re getting yourself into and somehow – despite everything that’s happened – whatever _this_ is, it feels right.


	9. Hot as fuck

It’d been just over 3 weeks since the accident. Finally, you were up and walking around with ease and the pain had subsided considerably. Negan had pretty much stayed by your side constantly, which obviously led to many stares and confused expressions from fellow Savior’s and occupants of the Sanctuary; not least of all his wives who you’d pass on occasion and he’d actively avoid.

You’d spent some time with Laura, too, and honestly the two of you were becoming good friends. She and Dwight had returned to the Sanctuary a few days after you’d regained consciousness and with a shit-ton of good supplies – turned out the next town over was a lot less barren than the one you first scouted. _And_ , much to Negan’s delight Dwight had brought back Lucille on their return.

* * *

Today is a hot day. Negan is still refusing for you to take up any Savior duties just yet so you find yourself wandering around the compound by yourself with very little to do. You decide on a relatively recluse spot and drop down onto the ground, stretching out and rolling up your tank top to your chest. You close your eyes; the sun is pleasantly warming on your skin. You’ve been lying there for approximately two or three minutes when a shadow hangs over you and blocks the sun’s rays. You squint in the brightness, bringing your hand up to your eyes.

“Hey, mind if I join you?” It’s Laura.

“No problem.” You smile and she drops down beside you. “You off duty?”

“Yeah… I got an hour or so to kill before my shift.” You close your eyes again as she speaks. “How’s it going?”

“Good. I’m mostly healed. On the outside anyway, the inside still hurts like a bitch if I move in the wrong way.” You laugh softly.

“Almost there, right?” Laura assures.

“Yeah. Almost.”

“I ran into Amber and Frankie earlier.” Great, just what you want to hear about; Negan’s neglected wives.

“So?”

“So they were asking what’s up with you and Negan. Again. Don’t get me wrong, I think they’re glad the attention is on you now and not them.” This, to you, makes about as much sense as Sherry’s comments the other week.

“I don’t get it. What’s their problem with Negan?”

“ _Really?_ Shit, they never wanted anything to do with him. They married him out of fear and for the promise of safety you know that right?” Laura huffs out a halfhearted laugh.

“Like I say, I don’t get it.” Because yeah, Negan could be an asshole, and he sure as shit had a temper on him but honestly, shouldn’t they be _pissed_ at you not _thankful_ for you taking up his time?

“Whatever. They’re happy, you’re happy, Negan sure as fuck seems happy.” The pair of you laugh.

“I fucking do, do I?” His voice travels from across the compound and you hear his heavy-booted footsteps approaching you. Holding your hand to shield your eyes once again you glance up at Negan’s broad frame as he stands at your feet smiling down at you; Lucille lounging over his right shoulder. Laura pulls up to her elbows and stares at him as well. He raises an eyebrow at her as though awaiting a response. Laura smirks and attempts a shrug before pulling up from the ground.

“I got places to be.” She strides away from you both.

“Catch you later.” You call after her. She gestures goodbye with a raise of her hand as she walks away. You look back to Negan and he is staring at you with a provocative look on his face.

“ _Jesus-fucking-Christ_. Sweetheart, you look _hot, as, fuck_ , lying there like that.” He arches back and gazes at your outfit which consists of the shortest shorts you could find and a rolled up tank top. “Shit, I’ve not got my dick wet in weeks waiting for you to fucking feel better and you’re lying around here looking like _that_. _Jesus fuck_ are you _trying_ to provoke me?” You can’t help but smile at his words. It wasn’t deliberate, but truth be told you were getting real fucking impatient, too.

He shifts his position and holds out a hand. You hold onto him and he eases you gently up from the ground and you wince slightly as a stabbing pain shoots momentarily through your side. You stare at him, wondering how in hell he is still wearing that goddamn leather jacket in this heat. He pulls you close to him and his free hand slips around your waist; his fingers rough against your bare skin. He leans forward and his beard brushes against your cheek as he whispers into your ear.

“Why don’t we head back inside…” His breath is hot against your skin as he pulls his face in front of yours again. “ _And I can screw your fucking brains out_.” His lips curl into a grin and his tongue licks over his bottom lip; his eyes are burning desperately into yours and _god-fucking-damn_ – maybe it’s the heat but – you feel weak at his words and it’s a good job he pulls you hard against him else-wise you might just collapse here and now.

 _Well fuck_.

He lets go of you abruptly. “Hold this.” And for some reason he hands you Lucille. You take her, skeptically, and narrow your eyes at him. And then without warning he bends, slipping his arm around your back and pulling you effortlessly off your feet and before you know what’s happening he’s fucking _carrying_ you bridal style across the compound. His grin is contagious as he smiles at you and steps through the main door and within moments you’ve reached his room.

He kicks the door closed behind him and strides toward the bed, laying you carefully across it. He takes Lucille from you, leaning her up against the wall beside the bed before unzipping his jacket and discarding it carelessly onto the floor. And he’s quick to pull his t-shirt up over his head, dropping it onto the bed beside you.

Damn, you forgot how incredible he looks without his shirt on.

He climbs onto the bed and balances above you on muscled arms, simply staring at you for a moment but it doesn’t take long before you wrap your arms around the back of his neck and pull him down against you. His lips linger teasingly over yours and his beard scrapes lightly against your chin. You close your eyes and he leans closer; your lips are barely touching as he kisses you gently. And you desperately want to taste him but he won’t let you; instead he moves his lips away from yours and places them against your neck, trailing the most delicate of kisses over your hot skin.

He moves one hand and places it against your stomach, moving slowly upward and under your shirt. His kisses become harder against your neck and you roll your head to the side, inviting him to taste more of you. Your hands trail down his arms as he kisses you and you let out a soft gasp as he gently squeezes your breast and rubs a thumb over your nipple. And then his mouth is back on yours and he kisses you passionately, his tongue slipping out in search of your own. And it’s like he can’t get enough as he kisses you deeper; and you eagerly return his enthusiasm.

Then he reluctantly pulls his mouth away from yours and grabs your hands, pulling you gently forward and removing your shirt, throwing it onto the floor alongside his jacket. Laying you back down he moves to remove your boots, and then works the button on your shorts lose, dragging them away from you agonizingly slowly and leaving you lying entirely unclothed before him.

“Fuck, sweetheart…” He mutters, gazing at you. And then he spreads your legs and drops down above you again, placing his mouth back on yours and continuing to kiss you hard. Your hands trail over his chest and broad shoulders. He moves his lips back over your neck you pull your hands through his hair.

Your breathing grows heavier as his mouth trails down your neck and toward your chest. He’s propped up on one elbow and his hand is resting against your hip and he places kisses over your breasts, pausing to suck at your nipples and grazing his teeth torturously over them. He works his way over your body and then his tongue slips back out and he trails from your navel back to your neck causing a shiver to run up your spine and a sigh to escape your lips.

You pull your arms up above your head as he moves down the bed and pushes your legs apart further, his hands now gliding over your thighs and causing your muscles to tense. He kisses the inside of your thighs, trailing slowly upwards and your eyes are closed but you’ve no doubt he’s grinning as he kisses you. And then a wave of pleasure hits you as his tongue glides slowly over your clit.

 _Jesus Christ that tongue_.

And he’s kissing and sucking and licking all at once and all you can do is gasp as his tongue works over you. But then he moves a finger to your entrance and he pauses; and he must fucking know he’s driving you insane right now. Then he pushes gently inside of you causing you to let out another moan.

“ _Fuck… Negan…_ ” And you hear him chuckle softly as you say his name and he pushes deep inside of you. You buck your hips involuntarily forward as he moves his finger in and out of you and _fuck_ do you regret it as pain radiates from your injured side. He must have noticed you tense from the pain as he pauses again.

“Careful, doll. If this is too fucking much for you we’ll just have to stop.” You lift your head to stare at him and he smirks at you before pushing back inside with a second finger and causing you to gasp again; and you roll your head back against the pillow.

He begins to move faster and harder and you can feel the release building up inside you. You grip the bed sheets and your muscles begin to tense as he drives his fingers in and out, his tongue tracing circles over you. And then it hits you harder than you’d expected and waves of pleasure course through you causing your whole body to shudder at his touch.

“ _Fuck, fuck!_ ” And it keeps going as he continues to drive his fingers into you; and you’re trying hard not to jerk too hard because damn, your side still fucking hurts but Negan is making it increasingly difficult for you.

He eventually releases you and pulls away, sucking suggestively on his fingers and then running a hand over his beard. “You taste fucking sweet, doll.” He grins and pulls himself up to his knees, allowing you a moment to catch your breath as he works the buckle on his first belt. He drops it to the floor and then unbuckles the second belt, pulling open his pants and dragging them down along with his boxers.

You can’t help but stare at his impressive erection as he hesitates between your legs. But then he’s dropping down above you again bringing his face level with yours. And you can feel him pressing against your entrance and it causes another jolt of excitement to course through you and you just want him inside of you.

 _But he’s not planning on rushing anything_.

“You up for this?” He glances down at the bandage covering your still-healing wound. You raise your eyebrows at him.

“You’re kidding, right? The fuck do you think?” And before you can say another word he presses his mouth hungrily back against yours and your tongues are back to colliding forcefully against one another. Then he pulls his kisses away from your mouth, instead placing them hungrily over your body; your neck; your chest; your stomach. And then he’s back on your mouth again and your hands and gliding up his arms, over his shoulders and across his back.

You attempt to pull your hips forward, desperate for him to fuck you but he won’t. His hand slides up to your throat and he wraps his fingers gently around you, causing you to gasp. “Damn.” He breaths at you, his eyes flitting back and forth between your own eyes and your lips. “You are desperate to have my dick inside you, aren’t you?” His tongue traces his lip as he stares at you. When you don’t reply he simply raises an eyebrow and tightens his grip a little; and it’s just enough to restrain you but not enough to cause any harm.

You nod softly at him. He huffs arrogantly and loosens his grip. He’s teasing, pressing his cock at your entrance as he leans back down to kiss you again. His kisses become gradually lighter until his lips are barely touching yours. It seems like an eternity as you stare at one another and then the corner of his mouth turns up into a grin and he pushes his cock agonizingly slowly inside of you.

And he’s watching your expression as you let out a satisfied gasp; and your eyes roll back and you can’t help closing them as he pulls back out and re-enters you. Gradually, he builds up a slow and steady rhythm and you manage to pull your legs up around his hips without causing yourself too much pain or discomfort. You run your hands back through his hair as he lowers his face to your neck, placing more lustful kisses against you and biting down gently.

He moves his lips to your ear. “You okay? I don’t wanna fucking hurt you.” And you’re touched by the concern he has for you but honestly, the pleasure is by far outweighing the pain in your side right now and all you want is for him to fuck you harder.

“Please…” You breathe at him, “Just fuck me.” You can feel him smile against you and he pulls himself up on his arms and wavers above you.

“Well, _shit_.” He grins wider and begins to move at a faster pace. Your breathing quickens in time with his, and you wrap your hands around his arms as he thrusts harder and faster into you.

It’s not long before you can feel a second release building up inside of you and your muscles begin to contract around him. You can feel yourself falling slowly over the edge again and the room is spinning as a heat explodes inside you. And he’s staring down at you, watching you and breathing heavily and it’s obvious he’s reaching his own orgasm and it only makes your release more intense.

“ _Oh, god. Negan_.” You can’t help calling out his name as a fierce pleasure consumes your entire body. You’re shuddering against him and then you feel his own body tense as he drives himself hard against you. He continues to thrust forcefully as he releases inside you. And then he lowers himself toward you again and presses his mouth hard against yours, initiating another deep and desperate kiss.

And then he slows to a stop and you’re both gasping breathlessly at one another, your arms wrapped around his neck he kisses your forehead before burying his face against your neck. After a few short moments he pulls himself back up and away from you, rolling onto the bed beside you; taking care to avoid your injured side. He pulls up his jeans, fastening the button but leaving the belt hanging open.

You turn to face Negan. He looks at you and your eyes are fixed on one another. His lips twitch slightly, as though he might speak but instead he rolls onto his side to face you and extends his arm, gesturing for you to lay your head on him; because as much as you want to lay on his chest right now, he knows the puncture wound in your side certainly wouldn’t allow for it. Your fingers entwine with his beside your head and he’s still staring at you like he wants to say something but can’t find words.

You simply smile at him, and he reaches over you to retrieve his t-shirt and covers you with it before laying his head back down and draping his arm cautiously over your waist. You close your eyes, listening to the sound of his breathing and feeling secure in his arms as he lies beside you.

And whatever _this_ is, whatever relationship this is that you and Negan have, it feels _right_.


	10. I fucking care

You wake to find Negan still with his arm wrapped around you and his white t-shirt draped over you. Blinking open your eyes you turn to face him and discover he’s wide awake and staring at you. You stare back with a soft smile, noticing his usually slicked back hair has fallen in loose waves over his forehead; and you can’t help but think he looks, _incredibly adorable_ at this exact moment – though you daren’t tell him it.

The corner of his mouth twitches into a grin as you gaze at him and his goddamn tongue rests on his bottom lip – and Jesus do you wish he wouldn’t do that but you’re damn sure it’s deliberate . “Good job you’re awake, doll.” You wonder how long you’ve been sleeping for. “Dwight is gonna be here any minute.” Oh. Great.

“Dwight? Why?” Negan frowns, as though subtly suggesting it’s not any of your business what Dwight needs to see him for. You pull yourself up, taking care not to strain your injured side but it isn’t easy, and you try not to visibly wince as you perch on the edge of the bed and scramble for your clothes. You hear Negan sigh from behind you.

“He’s talking about making another supply run. Says there is a fuck ton of _good shit_ back there still.” You pull your tank top back down over your head and turn to face him. He’s grinning at you. “Told him already I am not, going, fucking, _anywhere_ until I’m sure you are fucking okay.” You sigh. Sure, it’s nice he’s concerned, but it’s getting to a point he’s becoming almost, _possessive_.

“I’m fine.” You assert. And without warning he reaches out a hand and wraps his fingers around your bandaged side, applying what is probably no more than a gentle pressure but _shit_ it hurts. You pull away with a gasp and growl a bitter “ _Fuck_ ” at him. He raises an eyebrow. “Well not if you fucking do that, asshole.” For a moment you consider whether calling Negan an asshole is a particularly bright idea but you quickly realize he’s laughing and shaking his head at you, thankfully.

“Like fuck you’re fine.” He retorts. You turn your gaze away from his provocative grin, standing to pull on your underwear and retrieve your shorts from the floor.

“So you aren’t going then?” You ask, pulling your shorts up and buttoning them.

“I told you, I’m not going fucking anywhere until I know _you_ , are fucking okay.” His voice is gruff and you can tell without looking at him he’s not grinning anymore. You drop back onto the bed and kneel beside him. He’s still lying stretched out and shirtless across it, hands now resting on his stomach.

But before you can open your mouth to respond there’s a knocking at the door. Negan climbs off the bed and approaches the door and you’re suddenly quite conscious of the fact he’s still wearing only his boots and pants and his belt is still unbuckled; and it’s pretty fucking obvious to anyone on the other side of the door what’d just happened and honestly, you don’t appreciate Negan proudly exhibiting what the pair of you have been up to. But he does it anyway.

The door swings open to reveal Dwight. You stare down at the ground in an attempt to avoid looking at him but you can feel him staring at you.

“Um,” Dwight begins. “If this is a bad time, I mean, if you’re busy I’ll just come back later.”

“Not at all, Dwighty-boy.” Negan replies. You glance up and Dwight quickly turns his gaze away from you. Negan simply smirks as he buckles his belt before turning and approaching the bed to retrieve his white shirt. He catches your eye briefly as he pulls it on, before turning back to Dwight and then striding toward the large leather couch on the other side of the room and dropping down onto it. Dwight closes the door and sits opposite Negan, and it’s as though he’s actively avoiding looking at you. _The feeling is mutual_.

You watch the pair of them; Negan leans forward resting his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped together and after a short while he simply stares at you expectantly with eyebrows raised. You take this as a cue to leave and slide off of the bed to grab your boots from the floor and pull them on hurriedly. He’s watching you the whole time, his smirk hidden behind his clasped hands but it’s still glaringly obvious he’s smiling at you. Dwight glances occasionally at Negan but doesn’t look at you and you really have to wonder what the fuck his problem is.

You stand to leave and grasp the door handle firmly but Negan pauses your departure. “Hey, doll, just give us an hour, okay?” He lowers his hands a little as he speaks. _God damn he’s attractive_. You nod, returning his smile with one of your own as you turn to leave.

 

* * *

 

 

You should probably have done what he’d asked and gone back in an hour. Because if there was anything you’d learned from being at the Sanctuary these past weeks, it’s that you should always do as Negan asks. But you didn’t. Instead you chose to go and see Doctor Carson simply because you were determined to prove to Negan you were fine and he could go on his damned supply run; or more to the point, that you could pick up Savior duties again and even go _with him_ on the supply run.

“So, what do you think?” You cautiously ask Carson as he removes the dressing.

“Like I’ve said before, you’re doing fine. In fact I’d say it’s about time we can remove the dressing altogether. The stitches have healed.” These are the words you need to hear. “Of course, it’ll still hurt a little but keep taking the pain meds and you’re good to go.” You smile and a sigh of relief passes your lips.

“Try telling Negan that.” You mutter.

“Look, I’m giving you my professional opinion as a doctor but it’s up to him what happens next. I can’t convince him one way or another whether you should be going out on runs… It’s really not my business.” Then the door swings violently open.

“Too fucking right it’s not, doc.” It’s Negan, complete with baseball bat and looking just as he had when you’d left his room; his hair still falling over his forehead but this time he looked far less adorable and a great deal more enraged. He locks eyes with you. “I thought I fucking told you-” But you don’t give a damn what he told you.

“Tell him.” You urge Carson. Carson looks from you to Negan and Negan is staring at him fiercely. Carson swallows hard and glances nervously downward.

“Tell me fucking what?” Negan demands. Carson shakes his head. You let out an irritated sigh realizing Carson isn’t about to tell Negan _anything_.

“He says I’m fine. Look,” You gesture at your side. “So go on your damned supply run with Dwight.” But truthfully you want him to take you with him again because you can’t cope with sitting around not lifting a finger like one of his _goddamn, useless wives_.

Negan is clenching his jaw and you can see the fury in his eyes, presumably a result of you attempting to tell him what to do.

“Or,” You swallow hard. “Take me with you and you can still keep an eye on me.” Negan’s intense stare breaks into a frown as he considers what you’ve just said.

“No. Fucking. Way. That is _not_ happening.” He doesn’t break eye contact.

“ _Screw you_.” Now you’re losing it because for Christ’s sake, he doesn’t own you, you’re not his wife, and he can’t tell you what you can and cannot fucking do. _Can he?_ Carson smiles pathetically and shuffles awkwardly out of the room leaving you alone again with Negan.

“Watch your goddamn fucking mouth, doll.” He barks angrily at you. “And do not – _do not_ – tell me what to fucking do.” His eyes burn furiously into yours and there’s a sudden knotting in your stomach as you consider what he plans to do next; His tall, broad frame is hovering over you and Lucille is gripped tightly in his hand and it’s certainly intimidating. But after what seems like an eternity, his expression begins to soften and a smile creeps over his lips. He drops Lucille onto the table beside you and then places his hands either side of your face. “You’re goddam shaking.” He narrows his eyes.

“I’m not.” You lie.

“Yes. You are. Shit, I am _not_ gonna fucking hurt you. _Not gonna happen_.” He leans forward so his forehead touches yours and you close your eyes. “I don’t want you out there.”

“I’m not your wife, Negan.” You pull away and stare up at him but he still has your face in his hands. “I’m not going to sit around all day doing fuck all. You told me you needed a Savior and that’s what I’m going to be.” He narrows his eyes again and it’s impossible to predict what his response will be.

Negan drops his hands from your face and steps backwards, lowering his gaze and shaking his head. “Are you goddamn fucking _stupid?_ ” He leans back and breathes out a soft laugh but it’s obvious this laugh is of blatant disbelief rather than amusement. “Or have you got a fucking death wish, sweetheart?” He falls back against the doorframe and rolls his head back.

“I want to help.”

“ _You almost fucking died out there!_ ” He barks angrily and his expression is back to furious. You glare at one another for what seems longer than necessary but Negan eventually breaks the silence. “God-fucking-damn doll. I do not know how the _fuck_ it happened, but I fucking care about you.” He pulls himself up from the wall and approaches you again. You look down at the floor but he places a finger under your chin and lifts your gaze back to his. “Shit, I don’t…” And for the first time it appears as though he is genuinely lost for words. “I don’t want you to get hurt again.” His thumb brushes your cheek but you try to ignore it.

“And _I_ don’t want to be treated like all the other women you screw. I don’t.” And you really don’t. He bites his tongue and you can tell he’s thinking but you don’t know what.

“Three goddamn days. I’m giving you three fucking days and then we’re going on the fucking supply run and I _really_ fucking hope you appreciate me letting you tag the fuck along.” You can tell from the stern look on his face he doesn’t want you going with him but there’s also something in his eyes and the way he’s touching your cheek that says he doesn’t want to leave you here, either. But then he pulls away again and grabs Lucille, throwing her over his shoulder and striding out of the door. You’re still standing motionless as he looks back over his shoulder. “Follow me.” He commands, and you do as you’re asked.

 

* * *

 

 

You follow Negan silently through the dimly lit halls of the Sanctuary; his strides are long and fast and you have to quicken your pace to match his. He stops outside of a door you don’t recognize and he turns to the Savior posted in front of it. “Do me a favor, go find Simon and Dwight. They are _not_ gonna want to miss this.” He directs his order at the man who is fast to obey.

“What are we doing?” You question. Negan sighs.

“I like you.” You frown at him. “I need you to _know_ that. I need you to _know_ that I do _not_ fucking intend to treat you like any of my wives.” His eyes convey a convincing sincerity. “ _Jesus… fucking… Christ_ …” He drawls. “You mean so much fucking more to me than that. Shit, don’t get me wrong. They are _hot_.” He arches back as a smile spreads over his lips. “But as much as I enjoy screwing their goddamn brains out – and I do, _really_ fucking enjoy that-” You swallow hard. Negan fucking other women is not something you need to hear about.

“No shit…” You mutter, shaking your head and turning away from him with an irritated sigh.

“There is no other fucking reason I keep them around.” _Sure, aside from the fucking power trip it gives him_. You can feel him staring at you again. He leans forward and lowers his head in an attempt to catch your eyes. “Hey, doll… I’m doing this for you.” He breathes the words softly at you but you’re still unsure exactly what it is he’s _doing_ for you.

Your gaze flickers between his enticingly attractive eyes and the contagious smile that hangs on his lips; he’s so goddamn charming and it doesn’t take long before you return his smile with your own. God knows how he manages to have this effect on you despite the many things he is; _an arrogant, pretentious, manipulative, dangerously unstable, sociopathic asshole._

Your thoughts are interrupted by Dwight and Simon rounding the corner. Negan straightens himself and grins at the other men. He lets out a deep sigh and glances back at you, “Do not make me regret this.” And with that he turns and pushes open the door before you.

You step into the room beside Negan; Dwight and Simon following behind you. But you stop dead, hit by the realization that Negan’s wives are all now staring right at you.

“Oh,” A pretty, young, blonde girl in a short, black dress rolls her eyes at you. “Another wife?” She smiles unconvincingly at you and takes a sip from a wineglass. You glance up at Negan, he’s biting his tongue and smirking at the girl.

“Shit, Amber, do you ever stop fucking drinking?” Negan smirks. Amber simply turns away and slinks into a chair.

“What do you want, Negan?” Sherry steps forward, glancing between him and you.

“You ladies haven’t seen me for weeks and this – _this_ is the fucking welcome I get?” He shakes his head but you note the sarcasm in his voice. “Un-fucking-believable.” He turns to Dwight and Simon, both of whom are smirking along with him. “Look,” He takes a deep breath and stares at Sherry, “I don’t mean to disappoint you all, and I am _sincerely_ sorry that you’ve had to go the last few weeks without having my goddamn _dick_ inside you – and I can’t imagine how difficult that must have been for you all,” He raises an eyebrow and Sherry simply looks away from him. You notice Amber huff out an amused laugh from the other side of the room. “But as it turns the fuck out, I am _not_ in need of your services anymore.”

And you can’t believe he’s saying this. You turn to Simon and Dwight, who seem equally as confused as you are by Negan’s speech. You can’t help but notice Dwight exchanging a glance with Sherry.

“Now I know you ladies have no real fucking talents…” He pauses and winks suggestively at Amber, who looks at him with nothing less than contempt. “Aside from the obvious.” He chuckles softly and Amber refuses to look at him. “And I am just _that fucking nice_ that I’m _not_ gonna throw you out of here. Fuck, you ladies deserve that much.” His tongue presses against his cheek as he grins at Sherry. “But I am leaving Dwight and Simon, here, in charge of you girls.” He gestures at the two men beside you. “They’re gonna protect you. Keep you _safe_. Keep you in, little black goddamn dresses, lacy panties and all the fucking  _wine_ you could want.” He glances at Amber again. “And I am _sure as shit_ you girls can come up with a way to thank them for that.” He glances back at the two men.

An awkward silence fills the room and Simon is staring at the women with what you can only describe as an enthusiastic yet intimidating grin. But Dwight can’t seem to pull his gaze away from Sherry. As for you, you don’t know where to look; all the women in the room are staring directly at you and it’s making you more than a little uncomfortable; thankfully Negan seems to notice this as he places a hand on your shoulder and squeezes softly before leaning down and whispering into your ear.

“I hope this fucking clarifies, exactly how I feel about you, doll.” And it does. It _really, fucking, does_. And before you can say anything he straightens up and turns to leave, guiding you with him and leaving Dwight and Simon in the room with the _wives_. “Hey, boys,” Negan glances back as you step through the doorway. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” And he laughs with a wink before pulling the door shut behind him.

 

* * *

 

 

“You gonna fucking say something, doll?” Negan positions himself on the couch and looks up at you expectantly. But you don’t know what he’s expecting you to say after what has just happened.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” You’re honest. He runs a hand over his beard and leans back, his tongue slipping out momentarily as he grins. He relaxes into the sofa and holds out a hand toward you, inviting you to join him.

You walk toward him and he takes your hand, but only for a moment because then his hands are around your hips and he guides you down gently on top of him so you’re pressed against his lap, legs either side of him; the leather of the couch cool against your skin. You rest your hands on his broad shoulders and he rolls his head back and smiles up at you.

“How about a thank you, Negan, for saying goodbye to all that _fucking, sweet, pussy?_ ” He raises his eyebrows at you and you can’t help giggling at his expression.

“Thank you, Negan.” You reply with a hint of sarcasm, your own smile rivaling his.

“Shit… I got a better idea.” He growls, “How about you _show_ me how fucking thankful you are, sweetheart.” And he gazes at you with a lust in his eyes, his lips parted and tongue slipping out as though _begging_ for you to kiss him. And how can you resist?

You lean forward and place your lips against his and he removes one hand from your hips in order to drag his fingers through the back of your hair, pulling you harder against his mouth. He shifts beneath you and you can feel him growing hard again, and it’s only been a few hours since you fucked but evidently, that wasn’t an issue for Negan as he moves his other hand from your hip to pull open his belt and jeans.

Managing to move your lips away from Negan’s momentarily, you pull yourself up and away from him – his hands supporting you in attempt to prevent you from straining your side. And you’re quick to remove your shorts and underwear as he drags down his own, before re-positioning yourself on top of him. And Negan is wasting no time in pulling your hips down hard against him and thrusting deep inside you.

 _Oh, god_.

You close your eyes and bite your lip in an attempt to stifle a moan as he fills you entirely. Gripping his shoulders you pull yourself up and back down again; and the feel of him driving his thick cock hard into you is making you want to scream his name and it’s all you can do to prevent yourself from doing just that.

And you work up a hard and fast rhythm; he’s far less gentle than he had been earlier but you can’t help thinking maybe it’s deliberate and he’s testing your limits. But damn, you are _not_ going to let the pain get the better of you.

Negan’s breathing is heavy as you lock eyes with him; his fingers are digging into you as he guides your hips on top of him. You lean forward, your fingers dragging up through his beard. Both of you are breathing heavily against one another and beads of sweat begin to form across his forehead, causing his already unkempt hair to stick to him. And if you weren’t already close to coming you are now, as he moves his hand between your thighs and begins rubbing circles over you with his thumb.

You’re so close to the edge and Negan can tell as you continue to fuck with a fierce intensity; and it’s ridiculous how easy it is for him to make you feel this way. You’re trying hard not to reach a point of release so soon but _dammit_ he’s making that impossible. “Oh _fuck, Negan..._ ” You breathe at him, and a wave of pleasure tears through your body as you throw your head back and you reach a point of intense satisfaction. And you sigh breathlessly as he lifts himself against you; and your body shudders but he doesn’t allow you to slow, instead replacing both hands against your hips and continuing to drive himself forcefully inside of you and causing you to whimper desperately with each thrust.

Your head falls forward again and he’s staring hard at you as you continue to rise and fall above him; and you find yourself entirely lost in his eyes. And then he exhales a breathy groan of his own and closes his eyes for just a moment, holding you against him as his hips buck forward and he releases inside of you.

His head rolls back against the couch and he runs his hand through your hair. “God damn…” He mutters before pulling you closer to him and placing his lips against yours. He stops kissing you for a moment and looks at you with an air of concern. “Are you okay, doll?” He glances at your side, and you’re sure he’s looking for an excuse not to allow you to go with him on the supply run in three days, but you aren’t giving him the satisfaction of thinking you’re anything but fine.

“Yes.” You roll your eyes at him and he smiles at you.

“Good. Because I fully fucking intend to make up for the past few fuckless weeks.” He smirks suggestively, and you know he probably isn’t joking.


	11. The fucking past

“You want me to bring Laura?” Negan’s broad chest rises and falls beneath you as he breaks the comfortable silence you’d been sharing. You’d rather he stopped talking and just lay there with you but you’ve come to the conclusion the man simply enjoys the sound of his own voice.

“What?” You open your eyes and take a deep breath, attempting to grasp whatever it is he’s talking about.

“On the fucking _supply run_ today.” He responds in a tone that suggests you should know what he is talking about. You simply shift your head against him and run your fingers through the dark hairs that adorn his body.

“Oh. I don’t know I guess so.” You shrug half-heartedly, not particularly interested in talking about the supply run or Laura. Negan’s arm is pulled around your shoulder and his fingers trail up and down your arm; the sensation causes your eyelids to grow heavy and you close your eyes again.

“Thought you might like some company.” His voice rumbles softly and you attempt to force your eyes back open.

“I have you.” You respond playfully, kissing his chest.

“Thought you could use some _female_ company, we’ll be gone a few fucking days, all goes well.” You wish he’d just shut up.

“Negan,” You lift yourself up and turn to face him – this in itself seems a remarkable feat and you realize your side barely hurts at all now. You raise your eyebrows at him. “I don’t really care.” He stares at you, seemingly perplexed by your statement. His mouth hangs open as though he might speak, but instead he leans forward and catches your lips with his.

Negan shifts his position, encouraging you to roll onto your back and now he’s swaying above you. He smiles for a moment as you wrap your arms around his neck and he leans forward to press his lips onto yours once again; his rough beard scratching against your chin as he kisses you.

And you could lay there all goddamn day; wrapped in his arms, naked and kissing in his bed.

But then he pulls away abruptly and gazes at you. “Shit… I wish we had fucking time for this.” He breathes, before hauling himself up and out of the bed.

_Damn._

“Stay there, doll. It’s still early.” He smiles as he walks to the dresser to retrieve his clothing; and you can’t help but stare at his ass as he strolls across the room.

“Where are _you_ going, then?” you pout, rolling onto your side and watching him.

“I’ll be back shortly.” Can he not just answer a simple damn question? You roll your eyes and nestle down under the comfortable duvet, figuring you might as well enjoy the bed since it’ll be back to sleeping in a truck for the next few nights. You watch as he dresses himself; his signature look of dark grey jeans, a white t-shirt and red scarf. He pulls on just one of his two belts, followed by his combat boots, and heads for the door. Clearly he isn’t going far, you speculate, since he’s leaving both his leather jacket and Lucille behind.

You try to stay awake once he’s gone but you haven’t had a particularly sensible amount of sleep the past few nights – which is mostly Negan’s fault. _Mostly._

The sound of the door clicking shut as he re-enters the room causes you to jolt awake again.

“Time to rise and fucking shine, sweetheart.” He exclaims with an enthusiastic smile. You notice he’s carrying a plate as you drag yourself up from the bed.

“Is that…?” Your words trail as he hands you the plate.

“Breakfast? Yes the fuck it is.” He asserts proudly. You can’t help but smile at his generosity as you glance down at the plateful of pancakes and fresh fruit. He doesn’t say another word, instead simply smirking and turning away to retrieve the rest of his outfit. You waste no time in tucking into the breakfast he’s just brought you, glancing up periodically and watching him pull on his second belt – with a knife strapped to it – his leather jacket, and single leather glove.

 _Damn_ he looks attractive in this outfit – _almost_ as attractive as he looks without anything on at all. But you try to push those thoughts out of your head.

He picks up Lucille from her place against the wall and throws her over his shoulder before approaching you and leaning forward, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “I’m going out to the trucks to meet Dwight. I’ll see you out there in twenty minutes, alright?” You nod. “Don’t be fucking late or I’ll leave without you.” And you can’t be sure if that’s a joke or if he’s serious.

 

* * *

 

Although it’s another incredibly hot day, you make the decision that wearing shorts is not the most sensible option for a supply run. You opt instead for plain black jeans with a loose-fitting, grey t-shirt and high combat boots – you’re fortunate that Negan can supply you whatever the hell damn clothes you like and it’s just one of the many perks of being ‘ _his_ ’. You smile to yourself as you strap a knife to one thigh and a handgun to the other before heading out to find Negan and Dwight.

You step outside and Negan glances up from speaking to Dwight, noticing you from across the compound as you approach the trucks. He watches you, apparently no longer taking account of what Dwight is saying as he, too, turns to look at you. Dwight nods at you and you attempt to smile at him. You can’t put your finger on why – although it probably has something to do with him threatening to kill you during your first encounter – but you just don’t like the man. But Negan trusts him and that’s good enough for you.

“You sure you’re up to this?” Negan steps around Dwight as he asks the question for about the hundredth time. You roll your eyes. “Okay, shit. Fucking fine.” He shifts on his feet and then turns back to Dwight. “Where the fuck are Arat and Laura at, D?”

“Just grabbing a few supplies. They shouldn’t be long.” Dwight glances at you again, then turns and pulls open the door to one of the trucks and climbs up into the driver’s seat.

“C’mon,” Negan brushes past your shoulder and heads toward the second truck, parked up behind Dwight’s. He strides around to the passenger side and pulls the door open for you – like you weren’t fucking capable of that. You pause for a moment to stare him. “Fucking what, doll? A man can’t be a fucking gentleman just because the goddamn fucking apocalypse happened?” He laughs and gestures for you to climb inside. You can’t help smiling too as you step forward but then he grabs your ass and squeezes in just the right way that you have to grab the side of the truck to stop your knees from buckling. _Jesus Christ_ , really? And could he be any less subtle about it? You shoot him an irritable glance but he simply raises his eyebrows and grins, running his tongue along his bottom lip.

You climb into the seat and Negan drops Lucille in beside you. As he pushes closed the door you catch sight of Laura and Arat approaching Dwight’s truck, carrying a couple boxes and a rucksack; no doubt supplies for the next couple days. Laura smiles and nods at you as she passes. You haven’t seen her for a few days, which is mostly Negan’s fault. _Mostly_.

 

* * *

 

You stare mindlessly from the window of the truck. It’s already been a couple hours and good God you’re bored. You sigh audibly as you pass by a couple walking corpses on the road. Negan shifts in his seat, straightening his back. “I Spy…” He speaks suddenly, and turns his head with a broad smile. “With my little eye…”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You exclaim.

“ _What?_ ” Negan retorts.

“I’m not playing I spy. What are we, _twelve?_ ” You go back to staring out of the window.

“Okay. Tell me something.” Negan suggests.

“Tell you what?” You glance sceptically at him.

“Fuck, I don’t know. _Anything_. You never told me anything about yourself.” He wasn’t wrong but it was completely deliberate.

“I try not to think about my past. What’s the use? We’re all different people now, right?” Negan nods slowly in agreement and lets out a gentle sigh. He glances at you.

“Fair fucking point.” He sniffs.

Of course, you consider telling him everything. Where you’re from; what you did for work; about your family; about your goddamn dog. But there is honestly no fucking point besides making small talk. Who you are now – _right now_ – is all that matters; a survivor; one of the _lucky_ ones.

“What’s your favorite color?” Does he ever stop?

“Black. It doesn’t show the blood stains.” Your favorite color isn’t black, but it does hide the blood stains. Negan laughs and shakes his head.

“Okay… Black’s good.” He agrees.

“What about… Favorite food? You must have a favorite fucking food?” His tongue slips out and he sends another glance your way before returning his eyes to the road.

“Anything that’s not stale.” You grin as he shakes his head in disbelief. Again, you aren’t lying but it’s hardly an answer. “What? Look I don’t know, pizza? I don’t fucking know…” Truth is, anything that was your favorite before is pretty much something you’ll never have again. Better off not thinking about it.

“Right, sure…” He thinks for a moment. “You like sports?” You grin.

“I feel like I should say baseball.” You pat Lucille as you speak.

The conversation goes on like this for a while; Negan asking you questions and you refusing to give him a straight answer; partially because it hurts to think about a past you’ll never get back, but partially because you love the look of amused irritation on his face every time you don’t answer him.

You try asking him the same questions.

“Black’s a pretty good fucking color. You’ve seen enough of my bedroom to know I think it’s a good fucking color.” Fair point. “I’ll eat anything, who can afford to be fucking picky these days?” He grins, “But I fucking love spaghetti.” Spaghetti sounds good. “Sports? Sure. Fucking, all of them. _Especially_ baseball.” He grins.

“Why’d you name your damn bat? I mean, Lucille of all things?” You smirk but notice that Negan’s amused expression has changed completely. He takes a deep breath and runs a hand over his beard.

“No. We aren’t talking about the fucking past.” Okay, maybe that was the wrong question to ask and now the atmosphere in the truck is entirely different; the bad kind of different. You place a hand on his thigh. He glances down momentarily and then back at the road.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to-” But he doesn’t let you finish.

“It’s okay, doll. Just don’t fucking ask me that.” You nod and he places his hand over yours, a soft smile re-emerges on his lips and it’s reassuring. Guess you’ll leave that question for another day. The pair of you sit in silence for short while before he chuckles softly and turns back to you, a suggestive grin on his face.

“Okay,” He begins. “Favorite position for me to _screw_ you in?”  Is he for real?


	12. Don't fucking do this

Dwight is already a good few minutes ahead of you on the road as Negan slows the truck and pulls to one side. The past hour or so has gone by quickly, with him switching between asking inconsequential questions and making – quite frankly – filthy suggestions; not that you minded.

“Why are we stopping?” You gaze out at the treeline. He sits back and stares at you.

“I need to take a fucking piss, sweetheart.” He smirks and pulls open the door before dropping down onto the tarmac, then reaches back in to grab Lucille. He glances up “There’s water in the back.” He nods toward the back of the truck and then strides around it, heading toward the trees. You throw open the door and climb down, figuring water is probably a good option seeing as it’s incredibly warm again today.

You wander past Negan, who has leaned Lucille against a nearby tree. He has his back to you but seems to have no issue with pissing in full view of you. _Charming_. And how the fuck is he still wearing that goddamn leather jacket in this heat? You pull open the doors and climb up to grab a bottle of water, before resting up beside the passenger side door and taking a long drink. Negan turns back toward you, zipping his pants and then _un_ zipping his jacket; and you’re not surprised as he pulls it off to reveal his t-shirt is damp underneath. You offer him the bottle of water.

“Jesus fuck it’s hot as balls out here.” He exclaims. _No shit_. He places Lucille against the door and throws his scarf and glove alongside the jacket, before gulping down mouthfuls of water. He drops the empty bottle onto the dash and then stands directly in front of you, leaving little breathing room between the two of you. “You look hot.”

“Well obviously it’s like a hundred degrees out here.” You roll your eyes. Negan smirks and you’ve clearly misunderstood him as he shifts on his feet, placing his body mere inches from yours. You gaze up at him and he rests his hands either side of your head, his fingers pulling through your hair. And then he presses against you so that you’re pinned between his warm body and the hot metal of the truck.

And he kisses you; his mouth hot against yours and his tongue slips out in search of your own. He leaves one hand gripping the back of your neck whilst the other travels down to your ass. Your own hands are resting against his heavy, damp chest as he slips his hand inside your jeans and squeezes, causing you to whimper into his kisses.

“ _Fuck…_ ” He mumbles, moving his mouth away to kiss your neck. “The fucking things I could do to you.” He growls, and you try _not to think_ about all the things he could to you; but you can’t help it.

“Such as...” You urge him. Why did you say that? Honestly, maybe it’s the heat.

He pauses kissing you and his tongue flickers over his lips, before he tightens his grip on your neck and spins you around, shoving you hard against the truck. He pushes his hips forward and his breath is hot against your skin as he growls into your ear.

“I’m gonna stick my _dick_ in your ass and fuck you so hard that you’ll _scream_ my goddamn name, so loud that _anyone_ , within a ten mile _fucking_ radius living or dead will know _you, fucking, belong, to me_.”

 _Jesus fuck_. You swallow hard, wishing you hadn’t asked.

You pull your hand up and grasp at his hair as he continues kissing your neck. He moves to the front of your jeans, managing to pull them open one handed before his fingers slip down between your thighs and _goddamn_ , it’s a good job he has you pinned against the truck elsewise you probably wouldn’t be standing. He works up a steady rhythm, his rough fingers gliding over you and teasing at your entrance; and it doesn’t take long for a searing heat to begin building in the pit of your stomach and your breathing begins to quicken.

But he’s not ready to let you come; instead he pulls back and drags you with him away from the wall of the truck, before pushing you down over the passenger seat, and forcing your jeans down further. And you hear the familiar sound of his zip coming down and the loosening of his belt, and he leans down close to you with his hand still around the back of your neck. “Don’t fucking worry, doll,” He assures you. “I ain’t sticking it in your ass just yet. We _don’t_  have fucking time for that.” And before you have a chance to respond you feel him driving his cock hard inside of you.

“ _Fuck!_ ” And you can’t help the loud moan that escapes you as he moves in and out, _slowly_ ; the bastard is making it almost torturous he’s moving that slowly. But when he’s seemingly satisfied that he’s teased you just enough – and you are close to fucking _begging_ him – he builds a fast and steady pace, causing you to gasp with each hard thrust.

He continues to press his fingers over you and it doesn’t take him long to make you come; and you’re trying your damnedest to keep as quiet as you can as your body explodes with a fierce pleasure – which is incredibly difficult when Negan is balls deep inside of you – because you’re well aware of the fact you’re in the middle of nowhere and quite probably surrounded by the un-fucking-dead.

You find you have to grip the edges of the seat to steady yourself as he continues fucking you, and he moves his hand from the back of your neck, pulling himself straight and grasping your hips with both hands. And within moments he’s reached his own release; his breathing hard and heavy as he lets out a grunt of satisfaction and thrusts hard inside you once more.

For a moment neither of you move as you both attempt to get your breath back. And shit, if you weren’t hot before you sure as hell are now.

“I’m gonna need another bottle of fucking water.” Negan declares as he pulls away from you, causing your breath to hitch in your throat at the feel of his cock pulling out of you.

You take a deep breath, finding the energy to finally stand up and replace your jeans. You turn around to find Negan throwing a bottle of water at you. You catch it, and gulp down almost the entire bottle in one go. Negan does the same, pouring the remainder over his face and hair. And his shirt might’ve gotten wet if he wasn’t already drenched in sweat.

“I fucking needed that.” He grins, and you can’t be sure if he’s talking about the water or screwing you but you’re pretty certain it’s the latter. You can’t help smirking at him as you climb back up into the truck, taking Lucille with you and pulling the door closed. Negan climbs up beside you. “Better get going before Dwight gets his fucking panties in a bunch and wonders where the shit we are.” He muses, placing the truck in gear and starting the engine back up; and the cool breeze that flows through the open windows as you drive away is incredibly welcoming.

* * *

 

You’ve been driving approximately another thirty minutes or so when you pull up behind Dwight’s truck. “The fuck is this?” Negan demands with a frown. You stare ahead at the stationary and vacant-looking vehicle.

“Maybe Dwight needed a piss too.” You shrug. Negan looks at you and slows to a stop. He grabs Lucille and climbs out of the truck. You follow.

“Then where the fuck are they?” He questions, gazing curiously at the empty seats. He walks around to the side of the road and glances into the trees. You step up beside him. Then you both hear a noise.

You grab for you gun but before you’ve got it raised an unfamiliar voice calls through the trees at you. “Drop your fucking weapons on the ground _now_.” The voice orders. You turn to Negan. He narrows his eyes but doesn’t comply to the order.

“Fucking _show yourself_.” He demands. A woman and a man step out from behind the trees and they’re brandishing the _Sanctuary’s_ weapons. _Dwight and Laura and Arat’s fucking rifles_. “ _Jesus-mother-fucking-Christ_.” Negan drawls with a sigh.

“Weapons on the _fucking_ ground or we’ll shoot. I’m not _fucking around_.” The woman – slim and perhaps in her mid-forties – demands. Negan shifts from one foot to the other, arching backwards and seemingly unthreatened. He throws Lucille up over his shoulder.

“How about fucking no, and we have a nice, calm, fucking discussion.” He smiles at them as though they’re meant to just accept his offer because he’s goddamn _Negan_.

She fires. A warning shot and it hits the ground just inches from his feet. Well fuck this, Negan might be too fucking smug to do what’s sensible but you aren’t risking _your own_ life. You throw your weapon to the ground along with your knife and raise your hands in compliance. Negan looks at you and sighs. “Shit. Okay,” he mutters. “ _Okay_. We’ll play it your fucking way, asshole.” And he lays Lucille carefully on the ground before him and then pulls his own knife from its sheath, throwing it down.

The two of them step forward from the woods to collect the weapons and the man gazes at Lucille in bewilderment; Lucille tended to have that effect on people. He looks up at Negan with a threatening scowl on his face and Negan stares back with sarcastic grin. _God_ , he’s a cocky bastard.

“Move.” The woman demands. Negan takes a deep breath as the both of you are ushered at gunpoint through the trees. You walk in silence for a minute or so, before the man – a large, grossly unattractive and sweaty individual with greasy, black hair – walks up beside you.

“So, you got a name, darling?” He smiles at you and you frown in response.

“ _Fuck you_.” You sneer.

“That’s not very nice, darling, I’m trying to be friendly here.”

“Hey asshole, back the fuck off.” Negan interrupts from behind you.

“Or fucking what?” The man threatens.

“Oh, Lucille is gonna have _fun_ beating the shit out of _you_.” Negan exclaims.

“Alright _shut up_.” The woman demands as you enter a small clearing in the woods.

Oh, _shit_.

Dwight, Laura and Arat are on their knees in the centre of the clearing; their hands tied behind their backs and Dwight looks as though he’s already taken a beating. There’s another two men holding guns to the backs of their heads.

The large, sweaty man grabs more rope from the ground and is quick to tie Negan’s hands. Negan stares threateningly at him and although he’s practically a foot taller than this asshole, he’s not in any position to fight back. Negan drops onto his knees beside Dwight and the large man sets about tying your own wrists; seeming to take far longer and getting a hell of a lot fucking closer than seems necessary; and he smells as bad as a damn corpse.

You drop onto your knees beside Negan and he looks at you in some attempt to reassure you that everything will be okay, but you aren’t sure how it could be.

“What the _fuck_ is this?” The large man asks, brandishing Lucille in front of you all. None of you speak. The man approaches Negan and digs him hard in the chest with the tip of Lucille and it’s hard enough the barbs on her end have drawn blood through his white shirt. “Fucking answer me, shit head.” The look on Negan’s face is turning from a combination of cocky and amused to downright furious. But he bites his tongue and doesn’t speak.

“Forget that piece of shit,” The woman gestures for the man the drop Lucille. “Where are you from? You got, nice, big fucking trucks, an impressive arsenal and from the looks of you, you ain’t been living _out here._ ” She waves around at the woods. “I’m gonna make this easy for you.” She declares, clearly under the realization that none of you are saying _shit_ to her. “Tell me, or I’ll blow her fucking head off.” And she aims the rifle directly in your face.

 _Shit, shit, shit_.

Dwight is the first to speak. “I’ll… I’ll take you there.” Negan shoots him a look that could kill. “I’ll fucking take you.” He insists, glancing back at Negan and then at the woman with a gun to your head. You stare down at the floor and beads of sweat trickle down your face; and it’s a combination of the blistering heat and the fact you could be about to draw your last breath.

“Okay. _Okay_ you two, take these sorry shits with you to the trucks,” You look back up to see her nod at two of the men to take Dwight and Arat. “And they try _anything_ , they even _look_ at you the wrong way, blow their goddamn heads off.” She looks back at Dwight and smirks, “Though by the looks of him it’ll be hard to tell.” Dwight glares at her as he’s pulled to his feet along with Arat. The two men shove them forward, traipsing back through the woods leaving you, Negan and Laura alone with the woman and larger of the men.

“Now, now…” The large man drops down in front of you, and honestly you’d rather the goddamn gun stay pointed at you than his disgusting face lingering near yours. You try to turn your head and look at Negan but he wraps his sweaty, chubby fingers around your jaw and forces you to look at him. “What are we gonna fucking do with you?” He looks between you and Laura and grins hideously.

“ _You’re a prick_.” Laura mutters under her breath and it was probably a stupid decision because now – although thankfully he’s let go of you - he’s got hold of Laura, and is shoving her face first into the dirt.

“Oh I know _just_ what the fuck I’m gonna do to you, you little _bitch_.” He snarls at Laura, pinning her to the floor and unbuttoning his pants.

_Oh shit. Fuck. Shit!_

“And I’m gonna make _him_ watch,” He gestures at Negan who has a look of fury on his face like you’ve never seen before. “And then I’m gonna do the same to _you_.” he looks directly at you. “And then I’m gonna make him watch as I kill you, slowly, and _then_ I’m gonna kill _him_ with his _goddamn stupid fucking baseball bat_.” You can’t believe what is happening and you stare up at the woman hoping to find _some_ degree of empathy in her eyes but she’s just smiling like it’s a good damn plan, brandishing the rifle between Negan and you.

But then Negan opens his mouth. “You _mother-fucking piece of goddamn shit_. _Jesus, fucking, Christ_ , you have _no fucking idea_ -” What the hell is he doing? The woman shifts her position and stands between the two of you in order to press the rifle against his forehead in an attempt to silence him.

And then you see it.

“-What I’m gonna fucking _do to you_. I will bash you’re _fucking_ skull in and that’s-” She flips the gun on its end and smacks Negan across the face with it, causing him to fall forward. He picks himself straight back up and spits blood at the ground before continuing.

“-After I take you back to the _fucking Sanctuary_ -”

There’s a damn corpse lumbering its way toward you from the trees and the fuckers haven’t seen it.

Negan has.

“The fuck is the Sanctuary you fucking dipshit?” The woman interrupts him but he ignores her.

“-And cut goddamn _pieces_ off of you until there’s-”

And then you throw yourself backwards kicking at the corpses legs and causing it to tumble toward the woman. She loses her balance; hit’s the floor. Negan rolls sideways to avoid getting bit and then it’s all too fucking late for her and it sinks its rotten teeth into her leg. She screams and the rifle is lost on the floor somewhere during the scuffle. Staring up you notice the large man seems lost for what to do.

And he doesn’t think quick enough as Laura throws herself up from the ground and smacks him across the bridge of the nose with the back of her head. He goes sprawling across the ground and Laura dives on top of him; and she does no less than rip his damn throat out with her teeth. And she’s like a goddamn dead body ripping at him, blood pooling over the floor and he can’t even scream.

 _Serves him right_.

And then Negan is beside you and he’s pulling loose the ropes binding your hands. You glance down at the woman and she’s still screaming and rolling across the ground as you untie Negan. Once you’re both free you throw yourself across the clearing at Laura as she’s spitting blood; and the guy is clearly dead – for _now_ at least. You turn to see Negan grab Lucille but then your heart sinks.

You see her; slipping a knife from the now-limp corpse's head and she’s got hold of the rifle again. _It’s pointed directly at Negan._ And he’s standing above her with Lucille raised and about to crack her skull open but-

_Fuck._

_No._

And Laura dives for the man’s rifle but it’s too late by the time she reaches it and the trigger has been pulled. Negan drops Lucille and falls to his knees as the bullet tears through him; and you feel physically sick seeing it happen.

Laura shoots the woman straight in the damn head but it’s too late.

 _Negan is hit_.

You scream and throw yourself at him as he falls back to the ground.

Blood is beginning to seep through his shirt, staining it a deep red and he’s staring up at you with a goddamn _smile_ on his face.

“Hey, doll.” His voice is soft. “Why the fuck’re you crying?” He raises his hand and brushes your cheek with his thumb.

“You can’t do this,” You shake your head and swallow hard, trying to hold back the damn tears but it’s near impossible. “ _Negan!_ You don’t _fucking do this!_ ” You scream at him. Laura drops beside you.

“It’s okay, look,” Laura tries to convince you. “We can get him back, Carson will fix him. Fucking _listen to me._ The son of a bitch won’t die.”

“Hey,” He whispers at you with that damn grin on his face. “It’s okay…” But then there’s a vacant look in his eyes before they close and his head rolls back against the floor.

_This isn’t happening._

_This can’t be happening._


	13. How I fucking feel

Negan is a heavy fucker, but between the two of you you’ve managed to half-carry him, half-drag him through the woods and back to the truck. Laura has been trying to comfort you; to reassure you Negan _will_ be okay. But you know from experience people are _rarely_ okay.

But Carson is good. _Maybe_ Carson can fix this.

You reach the road and one of the trucks is gone; and somewhere in the back of your mind you’re hoping Dwight _has_ taken those assholes back to the Sanctuary because _shit_ , they have no idea what they’re in for.

Reaching the truck you realize the doors are all wide open; and glancing inside you can see they’ve taken literally everything; your firearms, food, water; Negan’s goddamn _leather jacket_. You grit your teeth and swallow hard as between you, you manage to haul Negan up into the back of the truck. You climb up beside him and Laura pulls shut the doors. She pauses briefly.

“I know it looks bad but he’s still alive. He’s tough. We’re about ninety minutes out from the Sanctuary. I can get us back and Carson will fucking fix him.” You nod, kneeling down beside Negan and pressing your hands firmly against the bullet wound in the right side of his chest, attempting to slow the bleeding; and if you weren’t sweating from the heat before you sure as Hell are now.

You’re in relative darkness as the doors are closed, although there’s a crack where they meet that allows in a slither of light. And if Negan was to turn, right now, you’d be dead because your dumb ass didn’t even _consider_ grabbing a goddamn knife or a rifle. Maybe Laura has one. You don’t know. You don’t fucking care.

 

* * *

 

Time passes and it could be minutes or hours for all you know. Your arms ache from applying pressure to his wound and it’s as though the tables have been turned in some sick twist of fate. Negan had saved you when you’d almost died and if you can’t do the same for him – you shake your head. You can’t think like this.

The truck begins to slow and there’s a confusion of shouting and furious voices outside.

Then gunshots.

You can only assume you’re back at the Sanctuary but who the _fuck_ is firing at whom? The truck is now at a complete stop and you hear the driver’s door slamming shut and then the back doors are pulled open. The sound of the Sanctuary’s corpses rattling their chains carries into the back of the truck and you know you’re home.

“I heard shooting. What the fuck is going on?” You nervously demand of Laura.

“I, I’m not sure. It’s Dwight’s truck. I think, I think those guys are dead.” She side steps into view of the Sanctuary. “Dwight! Fucking _get here now!_ ” Laura is bellowing at Dwight and there’s a shuffling of footsteps against the gravel as he appears in front of you; at first he’s staring at Laura and there’s no doubt he’s wondering how she ended up covered in blood, but then his gaze drops to you and Negan and his mouth is hanging open as though he’s going to speak but can’t figure out which question to ask first.

“He’s shot.” You find yourself shaking at your own words as you stare at Dwight. “We need to get him inside. We need Carson.” Simon rounds the back of the truck.

“Shit. What in Hell is going on, D?” And the look on Simon’s face conveys complete confusion as he glances between you, Dwight and Negan’s unconscious body; and you don’t know what the fuck is happening yourself but _goddammit_ , Negan is bleeding out and _Negan_ is the priority.

“ _Just help me get him inside_!” You scream at Simon.

Dwight and Simon are far more capable of lifting Negan than yourself and Laura, and they’re quick to carry him down from the truck and toward the sanctuary. You follow them, along with Laura, past Dwight’s truck and the lifeless corpses of your captors.

“Hey.” Laura grabs you by the arm.

“What?” You stare at her and Laura shakes her head.

“Let the Doc do what he needs to. You aren’t any help in there.” You know she’s right but you don’t want to leave Negan’s side. “Come on.” And reluctantly, you allow her to drag you away as Dwight and Simon carry Negan inside.

 

* * *

 

“What happened, D?” You question Dwight, sitting beside him and Laura at a dimly lit table inside the Sanctuary. Dwight takes a breath and stares downward.

“Stupid cunts got what was coming. Simon saw us, driving up to the gates, knew something was up.” One of ‘em had a gun to my head, Simon must've seen him... They wanted me to bring ‘em here.” He pauses. “The other was in the back with Arat. The guy got out and he didn’t stand a fucking chance; Simon shot them both.” He grins a little but it doesn’t last long before it drops from his face again. They were dumb bastards. Vicious, but dumb. “How did Negan…?” His words trail as he looks up at you. You glance between Dwight and Laura before standing and walking away from them.

You can hear Laura telling Dwight what had happened. Recounting everything and you can’t listen to it.

You slide down against the wall and stare mindlessly at the ground, waiting for Simon to bring news of Negan’s condition. Minutes become hours and you lose all track of time as you sit in position against the wall. And Laura tries to make small talk but you can’t respond.

Then Simon walks in.

You climb to your feet and stare at him expectantly. Dwight and Laura look up from across the room. “He’s okay. He’s unconscious still, but the bullet went clean through him. He lost a shit ton of blood but Carson’s patched him up.” You feel a wave of relief wash over you.

“Where is he?” You demand.

“In his room. Doc’s keeping an eye on him but if you want to see him-” Simon doesn’t have a chance to finish his sentence before you brush past him and down the corridor.

“I’ll go with her.” You hear Laura behind you. She doesn’t need to come with you. You know she only wants to make sure you’re okay but she doesn’t need to. “Hey, _hey_.” She catches up to you and pulls you back. “Look he’s still unconscious okay? He’s lost a lot of blood.”

“I fucking know that.” You assert.

“I’m just saying. He’s not in the clear yet.” But you can’t afford to think like that. You know he’s going to be okay; because he fucking _has to be_.

 

* * *

 

 

You step into the room and find yourself face to face with Carson. You glance at him briefly before turning your eyes toward the bed and seeing Negan laid in the centre of it.

“Doc, wait outside.” Laura orders. Carson follows the order and steps out of the room. You approach Negan and climb up onto the bed, balancing on your knees by his side. He’s still unconscious; bandages over his chest and shoulder. Your fingers wrap around his own as you stare down at him.

“This is hard on you.” Laura sighs. You glance at her as she crosses the room and drops down into the chair opposite the coffee table. You shrug, your gaze traveling back over Negan. You stare at his face; his hair has fallen in waves over his forehead again; goddamn, how is he so perfect? _How has this happened?_ You close your eyes momentarily because it’s all you can do to stop yourself from crying.

And you hate yourself for the way you’re feeling. Why does he mean so much to you? You’ve seen people die. You saw your entire group torn apart viciously by those undead pricks. You never _wanted_ him to mean so much to you.

“Do you love him?”

 _What?_ Your eyes are fixed on Negan as Laura’s question sinks in.

“I...” Do you? “I don’t know.” You tell her, not looking up from Negan. She doesn’t respond. “The world doesn’t work like that anymore.” But you’re doubting yourself.

“Sure it does.”

“No. It doesn’t.” You state bluntly.

“I heard about what he did for you.” You glance up at Laura and you know exactly what she’s referring to but you play dumb.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You lie.

“His wives. _Ex_ -wives?” She muses. You bite your lip; you don’t have an answer. “He cares about you. More than he’s ever cared about anyone in this place. More than he’s ever cared about any of his wives. I know you care about him a lot, too.” She’s not wrong.

“I know.” You sigh. There’s a long silence where you consider just how you _do_ feel about him; because really, you hardly know him. But he’s unlike any man you’ve ever known in your life and the thought of losing him is more than you can bear.  

“Answer the fucking question, doll.”

_Negan!_

His eyes are still closed but he’s grinning at you and you can hardly believe he’s awake. Somewhere subconsciously you’re aware of Laura telling you she’s leaving the room but you’re so focused on Negan that you don’t quite register her words.

“Negan, you’re… Are you okay?” What a stupid question. “I mean, you’re not. But-” You’re staring at him with a grin that rivals his own.

“I’m alive.” His voice is rough as he blinks open his eyes. “And in my fucking bed…” There’s a look of bewilderment on his face as he takes in the situation. Then his eyes settle on you and you move your hand to rest on his stubbled cheek. He takes a deep breath and relaxes into your hand. “Is everyone else alive?” He questions.

“Yes,” you nod. “Everyone else is fine.” You lean forward, moving your hand to his chest and resting your head gently on him, your other hand still gripping his firmly. “I was so worried.” You close your eyes as you rest against him.

“It’s okay, doll. I told you it would be fucking okay.” He pulls his arm up and around you. “Shit… Hurts like fuck, though. Hey I know just how you fucking felt now.” He chuckles softly.

“I guess it’s my turn to look after _you_ , then.” You pull your head up to look at him.

“I guess so.” He has that smug smirk on his face and somehow you know he’s going to survive this. “You didn’t answer the question, though.”

“What?” You frown at him.

“Do you?” The smile drops from your face as you realise what he’s asking you.

“Do I…?” You’re playing innocent like you have no idea what he’s asking, because you still don’t know how to answer this question.

“Love me?” His eyes are burning into yours as he holds you against him.

“I-”

“It’s a simple question.” No. It isn’t. His tongue slips between his lips in signature fashion as he smirks at you. “I’m gonna make this easy as shit, for you, doll.” He is? “I, fucking, love, you.”

_Did you hear that right?_

“Negan…” You’re completely lost for words.

“I just told you how I fucking feel. You’re meant to say it the fuck back.” He raises his eyebrows.

“I love you, Negan.” Because of course you fucking do.

And he runs his hands over your back and his fingers drag gently through your hair as he pulls you closer to him, so that his lips brush yours. And the world falls away as you find yourself lost entirely in his soft embrace and tender kisses.

He moves away and you lay yourself beside him; his hands wrapped around yours and your head resting on the half of his chest that _isn’t_ bandaged from the bullet wound.

“So, what happened to Lucille? I don’t see her.” He glances around the room.

_Shit._

You’d left her. You’d been so focused on getting Negan back to the Sanctuary that you’d fucking _left her_.

“Negan I’m so sorry,” You begin. “I forgot, I was so worried about you we just-” You’re expecting him to be furious.

“It doesn’t matter.” It doesn’t? He takes a deep breath and sighs. “I don’t need Lucille. I’ve got you.”


End file.
